i 1 











<&<flpij^tt ^M.. 




UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. „ 









The Publishers would announce that, as intimated 
in the Preface, they are preparing- to issue immediately 
other volumes uniform with this, containing" selections 
from the Lectures of Dr. Taylor, upon Moral Govern- 
ment, Mental and Moral Philosophy, Didactic Theol- 
ogy, &c. Some one of these volumes will contain 
a Steel Portrait of the Author. 



PKACTICAL 



SERMONS 



BY 



NATHANIEL ¥. TAYLOR, D. I), 

LATE DWIGHT PROFESSOR OF DIDACTIC THEOLOGY 
IN YALE COLLEGE. 




NEW YOKK: 

PUBLISHED BY CLARK, AUSTIN & SMITH, 

3 PARK ROW AND 3 ANN STREET. 

1858. 



.nr 7 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 

Noah Potter, Jr., Samuel G-. Buckingham, and "Walter T. Hatch, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
District of New York. 



stereotyped and printed by 

C. A. ALYOED, 
15 Vomdewater St., JK Y. 



Dr. Taylor was for ten years pastor of the Center Church 
in New Haven, Connecticut, before called to the Theological 
Chair in Yale College. These sermons were written during 
this period, and preached in the ordinary course of minis- 
terial duty. Many of them had reference to a state of deep 
religious interest in his congregation, with which his ministry 
was so frequently blessed. 

They were the productions of his youth, before he had 
attained the full maturity of his intellectual powers ; and in 
their adaptation to the pulpit, are characterized by a rhetori- 
cal style, in striking contrast with the precision of language 
and exactness of statement which so marked his lectures. 
They represent him as the pastor, rather than the professor. 
They were often repeated during seasons of revival in New 
Haven and elsewhere, and are now given to the public at 
the solicitation of many who heard them. 

It is proposed to publish hereafter, in uniform detached 
volumes, such selections from his theological lectures, essays, 
and discourses, as shall be deemed advisable. 

New York, September, 1858. 



CONTENTS. 



i. 

THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 
"For their rock is not as our rock, even our enemies themselves being judges." — Deutebon- 
omy xxxii. 81. 

II. 

THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 
" Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these ye might bo 
partakers of the divine nature." — 2 Peteb i. 4. 

III. 

THE BETTER COUNTRY. 
"But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly." — IIebbbws xi. 16. 

IV. 

PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 
"And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God, and the prisoners heard 
them." — Acts xvi. 25. 

V. 

THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 
" I have set the Lord always before me ; because he is at my right hand I shall not be moved." 
— Psalms xvi. 8. 

VI. 

THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. (A SERMON FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.) 

" There be many that say, Who will show us any good ? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy coun- 
tenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time when their corn 
and their wine increased."— Ps alms iv. 6, 7. 

VII. 
"THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE TO THE CHRISTIAN FOR EYERY REAL GOOD." 
"He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him alttO 
freely give us all things ?"— Romans viii. 32. 



6 CONTENTS. 

VIII. 

THE INCREASE OP FAITH. 
"And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith." — Luke xvii. 5. 

IX. 

GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 
" Should it be according to thy mind ?"— Job xxxiv. 33. 

X. 

THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 
" Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them : 
for this is the law and the prophets." — Matthew vii. 12. 

XI. 

SINGLENESS OF HEART. 
" The light of the body is the eye : if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be 
full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If, there- 
fore, the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness !" — Matthew vi. 22, 23. 

XII. 

PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 
" The fool hath said in his heart. There is no God." — Psalms xiv. 1. 

XIII. 

SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 
"For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should 
be reproved."— John iii. 20. 

XIV. 
ON HEAVEN. 
"After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and 
kindred, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with 
white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our 
God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about 
the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, 
and worshiped God, saying, Amen : Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and 
honor, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one of the 
elders answered, saying unto me, "What are these which are arrayed in white robes ? and 
whence came they ? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, These 
are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them 
white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him 
day and night in his temple : and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They 
shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any 
heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them 
unto living fountains of waters. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." — Reve- 
lation vii. 9-17. 

XV. 

HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 
"Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." — Hebeews xii. 14. 



CONTENTS. 7 

XVI. 

GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 
"God is angry with the wicked every day." — Psalms vii. 11. 

XVII. 

THE GOODNESS OF GOD DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 
" Not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance." — Komans il 4. 

XVIII. 

PARDONING MERCY ABUNDANT. 
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return 
unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly par- 
don. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. 
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my 
thoughts than your thoughts." — Isaiah iv. 7. 

XIX. 

THE TERROR OP THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 
" Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."— 2 Cokinthians v. 11. 

XX. 

REPENTANCE NECESSARY. 
M Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." — Luke xiii. 5. 

XXI. 

IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 
" Behold, now is the day of salvation." — 2 Corinthians vi. 2. 

XXII. 

ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE. 
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall 
not be able."— Luke xiii. 23. 

XXIII. 
SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 
"And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely." — Bevelation xxii. 17. 

XXIV. 

THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 
"But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost." — 2 Corinthians iv. 3. 

XXV. 

THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 
"Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee and the other a publican." — 
Luke xviii. 10. 



8 CONTENTS. 

XXVI. 

HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 
" How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then 
follow him." — 1 Kings xviii. 21. 

XXVII. 

ON MAKING EXCUSES. 
"I pray thee, have me excused." — Luke xiv. 18. 

XXVIII. 

HARDENING THE HEART. 
" To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." — Hebrews iii. 7, 8. 

XXIX. 

THE SINNER'S DUTY TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 
" And make you a new heart and a new spirit." — Ezekiel xviii. 31. 

XXX. 

PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 
" And Jesus said unto him, No man having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for 
the kingdom of God." — Luke ix. 62. 

XXXI. 

APOSTASY. 
" Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away ? Then Simon Peter answered him, 
Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life."— John vi. 67, 68. 

XXXII. 

THE HARVEST PAST. 
" The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." — Jeremiah viil. 20. 



I. 

THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

Deuteronomy xxxii. 31. 
" For their rock is not as our rock, even our enemies themselves being judges." 

The language of imagery, however inadequate for many pur- 
poses, is unrivaled for beauty and force. By its conciseness 
it gives condensation to thought and ease of apprehension, 
and, by its allusions, imparts to merely intellectual ideas the 
power and pressure of sensations. It is always the language 
of feeling. Accordingly, all nations, in proportion as they 
are exempt from the restraints of artificial life, and accustomed 
to the indulgence of emotion rather than the abstract exercise 
of the intellect, are w r ont to express their ideas in the use of 
figures and similitudes taken from visible objects. Such was 
peculiarly the fact among Oriental nations. Accustomed as 
they were to contemplate the works of the Almighty, in the 
open air, and beneath a glowing sky, and led by their habits 
of thought and the structure of their language, they readily 
seized the prominent objects of material scenes to express in 
the strongest manner, the conceptions of their minds. The 
sacred writers furnish the most striking specimens of this use 
of language, and often astonish us, by the perspicuity, force 
and sublimity in which, by natural imagery, they present the 
great truths of religion. 

In the chapter from which the text is taken, in not less than 
four instances the Infinite God is denominated u a Rock." 
The same metaphor often occurs in the Scriptures, and to any 
one at all acquainted with the history of Judea, the propriety 
and force of the allusion must be obvious. The mountains 

1* 



10 THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

and rocks of Palestine, at an age when the present arts of war 
were unknown, often furnished its inhabitants with an impreg- 
nable defense against their invading enemies. To these rocks 
and their caverns, travelers also and others were wont to re- 
treat, for shelter from the weather, for protection from the 
revenge of individual enemies, and the ferocity of ravenous 
beasts. Those who are acquainted with the history of David, 
especially the manner of his frequent deliverances from the 
hand of Saul, will see how naturally he could extend the 
allusion to his Divine Protector, and sing, " The Lord is my 
Pock, and my fortress ;" " who is a Eock, save our God," — and 
those whose experience enables them to enter into the antici- 
pations of the evangelical prophet can easily perceive the fit- 
ness of the same image as applied to the Saviour of men. " A 
man shall be a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from 
the tempest, as rivers of water in a dry place, and as the 
shadow of a great Pock in a weary land." 

But Moses not only declares God to be a Pock, as being the 
strength and the refuge of his people, but institutes a com- 
parison between this rock and every other. " Their Pock is 
not as our Pock." The ground of hope and trust of others is 
not like that of the people of God. So plain and undeniable 
is the superiority of the latter, that he is not afraid to appeal 
to the judgment of enemies on the question, fully confident 
that they must make the reluctant acknowledgment of the 
truth of his position. " Their Pock is not our Pock, even 
our enemies themselves being judges." 

The truth which I shall attempt to illustrate is this : — The 
Christian has a ground of hope and trust and joy, which all 
other men do and must acknowledge, that they do not possess. 

I. Let the appeal be made to the most determined enemies 
of Christianity. It would not be difficult to multiply the con- 
cessions of this class of men that they could invent nothing to 
supply the place of that religion which they rejected and 
labored to destroy. In its moral and social advantages, in the 
solace it administers to grief, in the support it gives in trou- 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 11 

ble, in the tranquil pleasures it affords through life, and in the 
hopes with which it brightens the prospects and alleviates the 
fears of death, even those who have most scornfully rejected 
its proofs, have been obliged to confess its superiority. I can 
appeal to but few examples in confirmation of these remarks. 

With respect to the superior moral influence of Christianity, 
we have the acknowledgment of two of the most distinguished 
infidels of the former age. They assiduously inculcated on 
their children the doctrines and precepts of Christianity, and 
when censured by their infidel friends for their inconsistency, 
the reply of each was substantially the same : " Show me 
better rules of life, and I will renounce these." Similar 
instances have often occurred, in which parental affection 
aided by conscience, has triumphed over the pride of consist- 
ency and labored to bless its object with the consolations of 
the hated religion of Jesus. 

Of the comparative worth of the world and of religion, to 
render life happy as it passes, take the following confession of 
one of this class of men : " I have," says he, u run the silly 
rounds of business and pleasure, and have done with them all. 
When I reflect on what I have seen, what I have heard, and 
what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all that 
frivolous hurry and bustle and pleasure of the world has any 
reality, but I look upon it all as one of those romantic dreams 
which opium occasions, and do by no means desire to repeat 
the dose for the sake of the dream. Shall I tell you that I 
bear this melancholy situation with the sustaining constancy 
and resignation which others speak of. ~No ; I bear it, be- 
cause I must bear it, whether I will or no. I think of nothing 
but killing time now it has become my enemy, and my res- 
olution is to sleep in the carriage during the rest of the 
journey." This is testimony to the comparative inanity and 
miseries of a worldly life, from a man who did not speak 
slightingly, because it was in the way of his profession. He 
did not deny through envy, the pleasures which he was forbid- 
den to taste. The witness was Lord Chesterfield — a man than 



12 THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

whom none knew the world better or shared more largely in 
its smiles. He had discernment enough to see its compara- 
tive worthlessness, and magnanimity enough to confess it. 
You 6ee how poor, how abject, how wretched he pronounced 
himself; how unlike in his own estimation, was his condition 
to that of the resigned and cheerful Christian ! 

Nor shall we find less decisive acknowledgments of the 
superiority of Christian hope, if we appeal to the death-beds 
of this class of men. None of them have met death in tri- 
umph ; none of them have claimed superiority for their system 
over Christianity in the consolations it imparts and the prospects 
it opens, in the honest hour when man stands on the brink 
of eternity. All they have ventured to claim for any is, that it 
can then give calmness and composure, which result from all 
unconcern for futurity — which, in the judgment of God, and 
of common sense too, is the heaviest curse, in time, to an im- 
mortal being. If we go yet farther and inquire how many in- 
fidels have closed life in anguish, w T ith "a certain fearful look- 
ing-for of judgment and fiery indignation," how numerous the 
examples — how piercing their cries ! That arch-enemy of the 
Son of God Yoltaire, died with hell felt by anticipation, 
alternately blaspheming God and supplicating his mercy! 
Many others might be named who have yielded up the ghost 
with similar horrors, cursing with dire imprecation the hour 
when they abjured Christianity for the blasphemies of infidel 
philosophy ! But who, on a death-bed, was ever heard to curse 
the day he embraced the Son of God as a Saviour ? who would 
exchange the sweet submission and victorious hope which 
have shed the luster of heaven on the death-bed of the Chris- 
tian, for the gloom and the horrors of being blasted into anni- 
hilation ! Surely, " Their Hock is not as our Rock, even our 
enemies themselves being judges." 

II. It is not to the avowed infidel alone that the declaration 
in the text applies. The more common, and perhaps the no 
less dangerous case of those who speculatively believe but 
practically reject the Gospel, — who take the world for their god 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 13 

and portion instead of the God whom the Scriptures reveal, — is 
one in reference to which the Christian may also say, " Their 
Bock is not as our Rock." 

Here, too, we might appeal to the confessions of this class 
of men, made in all the different circumstances of life. These 
however, are so common, and so often witnessed, that it is 
hardly necessary to repeat them. We shall rather present 
the appeal to the understanding and conscience, and inquire, 
from the nature of the subject, whether every worldly man, 
himself being judge, must not confess the superiority of the 
Christian's hope and portion to his own 1 That he must, will 
appear, 

1. From the fact that he acknowledges the truths of Chris- 
tianity, without practically embracing them. He professedly 
believes what he practically denies.- Of course his very faith 
contains an acknowledgment of the point in question. In 
admitting the Gospel to contain the decisions of eternal truth, 
lie admits the vanity of all his hopes from the world, and the 
stability of the Christian's hope in God. How obvious then 
the contrast in his own judgment. 

The Christian takes the God whom the Bible reveals as his 
God and his portion. The speculative believer admits that 
God is the only proper portion of the soul, but takes the world 
for his portion. The Christian's views, affections, hopes, and 
joys, accord with his faith. He believes there is a God of in- 
finite perfection — the Maker, the Preserver, the Governor, 
and Redeemer of men. He looks to him in this character. 
He practically recognizes him in all these relations. The 
mere speculatist also believes there is such a God, but refuses 
to recognize him in a single relation in which he reveals him- 
self to man. The Christian believes the promises of God's eter- 
nal covenant, and on the unchangeable word of Him who has 
promised, he rests, as a sure foundation, for confidence, amid 
the changeableness of all terrestrial scenes. The mere nom- 
inal believer admits the reality of the same covenant of God, 
but knows, from the very terms of it, that he shuts himself 



14 THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

away from all its provisions. The same is true of every item 
which makes up the Christian's portion in time and for eter- 
nity. The unbeliever admits their reality; he admits the 
riches of the inheritance of those who have God in all the 
majesty and glory of his perfections for their God; Jesus, in 
all the fullness of his love and sufficiency of his grace, for their 
Saviour ; heaven, with all its purity and bliss, for their eternal 
home ; but he knows by the decisions of the same oracle of 
truth, that in all this he has neither part nor lot ; he knows 
that in contempt of all this he looks to a worthless world to 
bless him, and he knows how poor and wretched, and naked 
he is, compared with him who is an " heir of all things." His 
very faith in Christianity, though too cold and too distrustful 
to secure for him the least of its blessings, tells him to his 
entire conviction, what his portion is, and what is that of the 
real Christian. And thus the acknowledged record of eter- 
nal truth condemns every part of his practical system. True, 
he dreams of happiness from the world ; he hopes the world 
will bless him. But what security has he for these hopes? 
Let himself judge. Can he challenge a comparison between 
them and the hopes of the Christian ? Instead of being able 
to point for the warrant of his hopes to the page of inspiration — 
instead of appealing to the truth of the living God, — in his own 
decided conviction every declaration and every attribute of 
God sap his hopes to the foundation. Look now at the Chris- 
tian: his faith is in God, in his Son, in his covenant; and his 
hopes, his confidence, and his joys are in accordance with 
his faith, and grow out of it. The hand of God's revelation 
draws aside the veil, and there are the disclosed realities of the 
Christian's inheritance, amid the scenes and grandeurs of eter- 
nity! Let those, then, who give to Christianity the bare 
compliment of cold assent, judge whether their rock be as the 
Rock of the real Christian. 

2. The worldly man is compelled to the same confession by 
a comparison of the ground of his confidence with that of the 
Christian. It is a thought welcome to the mind of the worldly 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 15 

man, that in point of present advantage he has greatly the 
superiority, and that, could he procure all he desires in this 
world, he should have no cause, at least so far as this life is 
concerned, to envy those who place their happiness in religion. 

Yet on this ground — the strongest he can take — we are not 
afraid to encounter him in an argument respecting that re- 
ligion which " has the promise of the life that now is, as well as 
of that which is to come." Let him, then, bring forward his 
good things, and magnify them to their utmost extent ; let the 
comparison be made in the most favorable light to himself, 
and then let himself judge. What, then, are his good things? 
Nothing, which so far as it is a real good, which the Christian 
may not possess and enjoy as well as he — yea, enjoy in a 
higher measure. He knows nothing of that gratitude and 
love, of that cheerful and confidential dependence on the 
all-bounteous Giver which the Christian knows, and which 
enhance the value of every gift a thousand fold. What are 
his good things ? They are, confessedly, fleeting and uncer- 
tain in their duration. Longer than life they cannot last, 
commonly not so long. Anxiety for their continuance em- 
bitters their enjoyment. A thousand stings, loaded with 
secret venom, poison the most flattering joys. Satiety soon 
impairs and destroys the relish ; the vicissitudes of fortune in 
a moment take his all away. Disease or calamities render 
every delight nugatory, and old age, with its infirmities, its 
trembling limbs, its painful days and wakeful nights, stamps 
all with "vanity and vexation of spirit." Is it so with the 
Christian? With God for his portion, will his portion fail 
him 1 With the love of God shed abroad in his heart, with 
the tranquil consciousness of the presence and favor of God, 
what has the worldly man to compare for a moment in point 
of stability ? 

Let us concede, and more cannot be asked, the intrinsic 
worth of each to be equal, and allude only to the permanency 
and stability of these joys. One has this changing, uncertain 
world — its fading honors, its riches with their wings, its oft 



16 THEIK ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

disgusting pleasures. The other — the eternal God, in the full- 
ness of his love, the extent of his wisdom, and the energies of 
his omnipotence. We ask for the verdict of reason and con- 
science, which has the most desirable inheritance? Again, 
worldly joys are confessedly unsatisfying in their nature. 
Ask the experience of the world for six thousand years. Have 
the gifts of earth and time satisfied a human being ? When 
every thing around has smiled — when health and youth and 
wealth, and cheerful prospects have conspired to cheer and 
make happy, has there not, in every dweller on earth, been a 
want of true repose and settled confidence ? Is not the bosom 
of man a void when the world has lavished all its gifts upon 
him? Show us the solitary individual who has said to his 
heart, " enjoy pleasure," who has not been forced to add, "be- 
hold, this also is vanity." Look at the nature of the soul. Is 
it not a rational and an immortal existence ? Can the world 
then satisfy its desires — desires which stretch into immortal- 
ity — and ask for a participation of God's blessedness? "With- 
out God" must not the soul, from the very nature of its 
capacities, be poor, unsatisfied, and forlorn ? It must have 
more. It must have something which can fill and satisfy its 
desires; something grand like its capacities, something eter- 
nal like their duration. It must have God. Such a portion 
has the Christian ; he has it now. It is a vile calumny on the 
religion of the Gospel to suppose that the Christian has noth- 
ing in God till death shall bring him to his home in the 
heavens. He is with God on earth. It is his prerogative to 
contemplate his glories here ; to love and trust and adore God 
here ; to enter into his designs, and to be active with him in 
advancing his purposes here. The Christian's God is a Gocl at 
hand, and he knows what it is to lean on his bosom and com- 
mune with him here. He indeed, takes not in that fullness of 
joy which the clearer visions of heaven will afford, but he has 
its foretaste. The same God whom he will then see he now 
sees, and the same fountain sends forth its communications to 
bless him here, which, when the fullness of God shall pour 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 17 

forth its gifts, will bless him there. Let, then, the men that 
are lying down at the puddles of earth look up to the sources 
of the Christian's happiness, and let conscience tell the com- 
parative worth of their portion. Ah ! my brethren, there is no 
mistake, we know their decision. "Their rock is not as our 
Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges." 

3. The superiority of the Christian's portion is equally un- 
deniable, if we consider the remedies it affords under the evils 
of life. These evils are either spiritual or temporal. Advert, 
then, to the character and state of man as a sinner ; the 
dominion of moral corruption ; the curse of the broken law ; 
the reproaches of conscience ; the malignity and wiles of the 
powers of darkness. To these evils (what in comparison de- 
serves the name) what has the worldly man to oppose ? Noth- 
ing — absolutely nothing. He stands forlorn and naked in the 
conflict, without a shield, and without a refuge. Can he main- 
tain an ignorance of his state, and thus exemption from the 
pangs of conscience ? And is this torpor of soul, upheld by 
willful ignorance and obduracy, a blessing ? Is it really desir- 
able to sleep on the brink of damnation ? Even this cannot be. 
Many a beam of light flashes terror on his mind — many a pang 
of conviction strikes a dagger through his heart. The curse 
of God rests upon him, and the depravity within reigns, with- 
out an authorized hope of its mitigation, even for eternity. 

Behold the Christian rejoicing in remedies for these dead- 
liest of evils — remedies obvious, all-sufficient, indefensible. 
To the power of in-dwelling sin he opposes the all-sufficient 
grace of God, to enstamp the image of God on the soul. To 
the curse of the law, and the anguish of a guilty conscience, 
the peace-speaking blood of the great atonement. When 
assailed by the power of the Prince of Darkness he is still 
safe, he is still happy, for he leans on the arm of the omnipo- 
tent God. Let us advert to temporal evils. Human life is a 
scene of suffering — from the cradle to the grave it is a pilgrim- 
age of sorrow. None can expect exemption. It is a world of 
curse, and the cloud sits deep on the face of it. Under these 

Yol. I. B 



18 THEIE ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

calamities and woes the mind sinks without support. And 
what support has the man of the world? Can he meet pov- 
erty, the loss of health, of friends and relations, with a 
natural fortitude and a stoical apathy that shall sustain him ? 
Adjudge him then, the amount of his consolation — the conso- 
lation of a brute. Other consolation, other support, he has not. 
If he has, let them be specified. But he has them not. The 
world was his portion, his all ; adversity strips him, and leaves 
him a prey to bitter recollections, to fruitless wishes, to disap- 
pointment without relief and without hope. Like the plunder- 
ed Ephraimite, the wretched votary looks around in vain, for 
his idols. He had set his heart on shadows, and is miserable 
because they are gone. The waves of calamity have rolled 
over him, desolated every fair fabric of earthly bliss, and he 
has no refuge. How, in the mean time — how fares the Chris- 
tian? His treasures are subject to no decay; stripped of 
earthly possessions, still he is rich, for his treasure is laid up in 
another world ; deprived of earthly friends and comforters, he 
has a friend Almighty and ever present, who will never change 
and never cease to bless. He, whom the heaven of heavens 
cannot contain, takes up his abode with him ; he numbers the 
hairs of his head ; not a sparrow can fall to the ground without 
his Heavenly Father. He enters into the sentiments and plans 
of the Eternal. He knows he reigns. He knows he will 
glorify himself, and bless them that love him. And are not 
those perfections, which are equal to the government of 
worlds and systems, competent to direct his little concerns? 
And can he not trust him ? Ask him, and you shall hear his 
answer : " The Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, let the earth 
rejoice. Let the darkness and the tempest surround me; let 
the winds blow, and the waves rage, I have an interest in 
the Ruler of the storm ; and when it is his wil and for my 
good, he will say to the winds, ' Cease,' and to the waves, 
< Be still.'" 

Again, in the article of death, how stands the comparison ? 
When that event comes to the man of the world, who admits 



THEIE ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 19 

the decisions of God, concerning his own sinfulness and the 
punishment that awaits him ; when under the pressure of 
pain and breathlessness, he knows he must die, what now 
shall support him? — what shall pacify a guilty conscience 
and still the anticipations of coming vengeance? His own 
righteousness ? He has none, and knows he has none. Shall 
he now fix a hope on the indulgence of God? He cannot. 
He knows him to be a just God, taking vengeance on them 
that obey not his Gospel. Shall he sustain himself with doubts 
and unbelief, and really make it a question whether his soul 
will sink into annihilation or woe forever ? or whether its 
stupendous faculties are to be inlets of pain, despair and woe? 
or to be expanded to the fruition of the infinite good ? The 
question, if he could raise it, is enough to fill him with con- 
sternation — enough to make every throne in heaven tremble, 
and convulse the abyss beneath. Oh, no ! — there is nothing 
to sustain the tranquillity of his dying hour. Behind him, a 
life of sin ; within him, an accusing conscience ; before him, 
an angry judge and an opening hell: and thus he must die. 
Look now at the expiring Christian. He has familiarized the 
scenes of death by devout meditation on the glories beyond it. 
He has fixed his trust in Him who came to deliver them, who 
"through fear of death were subject to bondage," and is 
"ready to be offered." To "die is gain." He who has con- 
quered death is with him; he longs to depart. The moment 
comes ; the languor of his dying eye is lighred up with celes- 
tial brilliancy, he shouts "Salvation" and is away to the 
heaven of his God. Again, we put the question, Who has sup- 
port, and peace, and safety, and hopes, and prospects, like the 
Christian? Whose rock is like his Rock? Let an ungodly 
world answer. We are willing to abide their decision. I 
might pursue the inquiry in reference to the results in eter- 
nity. It must suffice to ask, What is the portion now of the 
one? what of the other? Whether the rewards of religion, or 
the punishment of guilt — whether the blessedness of heaven, 
or the pains of hell, be preferable, is the question ? Could we 



20 THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

summon a witness from the dread world of woe — could we ob- 
tain from a fellow-mortal — from the rich man in torment — 
from Judas, who went to his own place — their testimony: 
yea, could one of this assembly know the reality by feeling 
it — could we obtain a response from, devils— could we ask 
angels, and the redeemed in glory — we should have but one 
answer from them all. On the united testimony of them all, 
united with the testimony of his God, the Christian might still 
triumph with the man of God in the text : " Their rock is not 
as our J2ock, even our enemies themselves being judges '." 

EEMAEKS. 

1. The Christian has abundant cause to be satisfied with 
the portion he has chosen. Its superiority to every other, and 
its all-sufficiency, are not matters of uncertainty admitting 
either of question or debate. The point is settled — not only by 
the testimony of the God of truth — not only by his own ex- 
perience, and the experience of every saint that has gone before 
him — not only by the obvious and undeniable nature of things 
— not only by the clearest, fullest evidence that the subject it- 
self admits of, but his enemies, those who practically despise 
and reject his portion, bring the reluctant homage of their ac- 
knowledgment. Let them, then, cast out your name as evil, 
and say all manner of evil against you falsely, and then let the 
appeal be brought home to their consciences, and it shall appear, 
not only that holy beings on earth — not that celestial intelli- 
gences — not that God approves, but that an ungodly world 
too, render their unwilling but profoundest homage of ac- 
knowledgment to the wisdom of your choice. They know 
that yours is the part of wisdom; theirs the part of folly. 
They know that you are rich, and that they are miserably 
poor. They know that you have consolations which stamp 
even their joys with wretchedness ; they know that you are 
raised above disappointment and calamity and death, and 
that they are the helpless victims of these evils. They know 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 21 

that you have an inheritance of life and bliss beyond the 
grave, and that they have none but the woes of the second 
death. They know that the everlasting God is your portion, 
and that this vain world, so soon to be left, so soon to be 
burnt, is their all ; and what is the contempt of such men to 
be accounted of? The day of their judgment and of yours is 
at hand — the day of their confusion and of your triumph ; 
when before the assembled universe, they, in the accents of 
despair, shall confess their folly and their madness ; and when 
you, with the ecstasies of heaven and the song of salvation 
shall say, " The Lord is my Rock, and my fortress," " Who is 
a Bock save our God ?" 

2. How concerned should Christians be to know more and 
more the value of their portion while on earth ! If they do not 
find it draw their affections away from the world, if they do 
not find its efficacy in tranquillity of conscience, in that joy of 
the soul — that peace of God which passeth all understanding — 
if they cannot sustain and welcome the afflictions of this vale 
of tears, as the appointment of their Heavenly Father, if they 
cannot approach death with composure and even with triumph, 
it is not because of the insufficiency of their portion. It is be- 
cause they have thought too much of the world and too little 
of the Rock of their salvation — too much of the enjoyments of 
the way, and too little of the blessedness of their eternal home 
— too much of the influence of instruments and second causes, 
and too little of the wisdom and the power and the goodness 
of a reigning God ; too much of the conflict with the last enemy, 
death, and too little of its conqueror ; too much of the body 
in ruins, too little of the spirit in glory. Come, Christian, and 
renew thy confidence in thy God. There is enough in him for 
thine every want, enough in his Son, enough in his Covenant. 
Oh, the sustaining peace, the cheerful hopes, the glad anticipa- 
tions of trust in God ! of a firm, unqualified, unshaken trust in 
God ! What a radiance it sheds on every path, what life it 
gives in the midst of death ! What light it sheds from the 
throne of the Eternal, as a prelude of everlasting day ! Who 



22 THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 

that knows any thing of its consolations, would not desire to 
know more and more of them ? 

To conclude, let me ask those who have no hope in God, no- 
thing to support, to comfort, to bless them for time or eternity, 
but this world, are you quite satisfied with your portion ? Is a 
world which corrupts, ensnares, afflicts and ruins the soul, a 
sufficient inheritance for an immortal being ? With no support 
under the afflictions that await you in this pilgrimage of sor- 
row, with no relief in the hour of death from the shudderings 
of guilt, and horrors of despair ; sinking into the grave, with 
no prospect, but of a resurrection to damnation, have you a sat- 
isfying portion ? You know you have not, you know you are 
wretchedly poor for time and eternity. And, my hearers, 
what is reason, what is conscience, what is it to know all this 
and yet despise it? what is it to know the guilt, the miseries 
and the woes of an impenitent, unpardoned immortal, and to 
know that God has pitied his wretchedness, and provided relief; 
offered you himself in all the glory of his perfections, his Son 
in all the fullness of his grace, all the provisions of his eternal 
covenant, offered all this as the ground of your security, peace, 
and happiness — what is it to reject all this, with a full convic- 
tion of its reality ? Is there nothing in God which you need 
both here and hereafter ! Does not hope — hope in God in the 
bosom of guilty man, stamp vanity on all you deem substantial ? 
Come, then, fellow-sinner, to this Rock of your salvation. 
Here is a sure foundation. Thousands have put their trust 
here, and have not been confounded. Do you not wish for 
something which you know others have, and you have not, — do 
you not wish for a better portion than the world ? Oh, say, do 
you not wish that the Almighty God were your friend, your 
protector, your refuge, and portion ? Do you not feel an inward 
sigh — oh, for the inheritance of a child of God, for his peace 
and hope and consolations in death, and his inheritance in eter- 
nity ! Cast in, then, your lot with him ; come, and put your 
trust in the same Saviour ; come and accept, as freely as he 
offers, himself, God as your portion, and you are made for- 



THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK. 23 

ever ! Eternity shall open upon you with the full vision of 
his glory, and its rolling ages shed on you the gifts of all that 
he can impart to bless. But refuse, and death shall meet you 
with no supporting hope, no glad anticipations of joy, and eter- 
nity shall stretch onward its absorbing periods of duration, 
with no prospect but one — the flames of hell. And when this 
becomes reality, what will be your emotions, as you lift your 
eyes to the paradise of God, and think where you are, and 
where the Christian is? 



II. 

THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 

2 Petee i. 4. 

" Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these 
ye might be partakers of the divine nature." 

We may hope to derive benefit from the Gospel, in propor- 
tion as we understand its practical design and tendency. This 
remark applies not only to the precepts and doctrines of the 
Gospel, but also to its promises. This precions part of the 
sacred volume, like almost every other, has not escaped great 
practical perversion. The error seems to consist in regarding 
the divine promises as chiefly, if not wholly, designed to pro- 
mote the comfort of Christians. It is true, indeed, that the 
promises of God are adapted to afford the believer rich con- 
solation during his pilgrimage on earth. But they have 
another and a higher design, even to promote our conformity 
to the moral image of God. 

This design is explicitly asserted in the text. The apostle, 
after referring to the fact that in Christ all things are given 
that pertain to life and godliness, specifies the promises of his 
grace as having the same design and tendency. " Whereby are 
given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by 
these ye might be partakers of the divine nature." 

Let us consider the truth implied in these words, that one 
important design of the divine promises is to promote personal 
holiness. 

I. The Scriptures often declare this to be a principal design 
of the divine promises. " Having therefore these promises, 
dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 25 

of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of 
God." Along with snch explicit declarations as this and that 
in the text, we find the sacred writers constantly referring to 
the promises of God, as containing the grand and essential 
motives to holy obedience. Whatever is necessary to encour- 
age, to cheer, to animate, to strengthen, to prompt in the 
course of holy obedience, is derived by constant appeals and 
illustrations, from the promises of God. Of every one that 
hath this hope — the hope founded on these promises — it is 
said that he purifieth himself even as God is pure. 

II. We argue the same thing from the character of man as 
a moral being, and the purpose of God toward him. As a 
moral being man is a subject of God under a government ad- 
ministered by moral influence — that is, by means of motives. 
The great purpose of God toward man is to perfect his moral 
character through moral influence. But where is this influ- 
ence furnished ? in what are these motives presented, if not in 
the blessings promised as the reward of obedience ? If God, 
by these promises, intended merely to comfort his people, by 
quieting their fears and awakening their hopes, why are not 
his promises absolute and unconditional securities ? But these 
promises of God are annexed constantly to his commands, 
which require the holiness of man, and their fulfillment is con- 
nected only with conformity to these commands. Plainly, 
then, we have no more evidence that it is the will of God that 
men should be holy, than we have that his promises are de- 
signed to produce this effect. 

III. From the direct practical tendency of the promises of 
God. There is no higher evidence of the design or purpose to 
be answered by the appointments of God than the true tend- 
ency of such appointments. Let us then trace, in a few par- 
ticulars, the obvious practical tendency of the divine promises 
to produce in man conformity to the divine image or personal 
holiness. 

1. Such is the tendency of the divine promises, as they re- 
move every obstacle to personal holiness. With God there is 
Vol. L_2 



26 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 

forgiveness that he may be feared. Nothing is plainer than 
that man, under the burden of a hopeless controversy with 
God, would sink into the sullen inactivity of despair. He 
would never take a step in the path of obedience to that God 
who should look upon him only in his wrath. And yet to 
man, as a sinner, without the promise of mercy, the denuncia- 
tion of the curse of God would remain in all its darkness and 
terrors, unmitigated by a ray of hope. To rouse him to holy 
activity, the promise of God is indispensable. You may 
shew him an opening hell, but without a promise revealing a 
pardoning God and opening heaven, he will never stir. "With 
such promises all the hopelessness and despair of escaping the 
curse is taken away, by the assurance of favor and reward to 
obedience. 

Without the promises there would remain also another ob- 
stacle of paralyzing influence — the impracticability of obedi- 
ence without the grace of God. The Christian needs no other 
knowledge but the knowledge of himself to convince him that 
the assistance of God is necessary to lead him to engage suc- 
cessfully in his service. With the conscious fickleness of his 
own heart, his resolutions so often broken, his liveliest emo- 
tions of love so soon abated, his proneness to relapse into sin 
and insensibility so constant, his return to God so difficult, so 
forced, so unnatural ; with so much to be done, while there is 
such a body of death to discourage and overwhelm, how soon, 
without the promise of divine aid, would the Christian aban- 
don all in despair ? But with the promise of a faithful God 
sounding in his ears, " My grace is sufficient for thee," how 
will he rise, as it were, in the consciousness of that strength 
which shall be perfected in his weakness, and enter the career 
of obedience with the inspiration of hope? Thus, by the 
promises of God, the otherwise insurmountable obstacles of 
unpardoned guilt and unconquerable corruption are removed. 
The mighty barrier at the very entrance opens before him, the 
rough places are made smooth, every mountain is brought 
low, and every valley is filled, — by the promises of God is un- 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 27 

veiled the salvation of God. Guilt is made to hope, and 
weakness itself to look up with confidence ; and the language 
of obedience is adopted in all the strength of its purpose, 
" Lord, I am thy servant, I am thy servant ; thou hast loosed 
my bonds." 

2. This tendency is apparent in the nature of the blessings 
promised. Whether we look at the general or specific nature 
of the divine promises we see that they cannot become effect- 
ual as motives without producing holiness. In their general 
character they secure the real good, the highest interest, of 
the Christian. But what is the real good, the highest interest, 
of man, but perfection in holiness and happiness? in other 
words a participation of the divine nature ? The actual im- 
port, then, of these promises is, that God will render every 
thing subservient to the holiness, and, in this way, to the hap- 
piness of his people. To be influenced, then, by these prom- 
ises, is to be influenced by holiness and the happiness that 
springs from it. Holiness must therefore be the only possi- 
ble effect. The motive is of such a nature that it can excite 
nothing in man but desires after holiness, and its appropri- 
ate influence is to heighten and invigorate the purposes of 
holiness, and to produce correspondent action. 

In their more specific nature, what are the promises of 
God ? Peace of conscience is promised. But who can think 
of escaping the reproaches of this inward monitor, ex- 
cept by the practice of holiness ? Is justification nnto 
life promised? But who can be influenced by this bless- 
ing as a motive, and still wish to incur the guilt and the 
condemnation of sin ? Are deliverance from temptation, sanc- 
tification, and growth in grace promised ? But who can be 
influenced by these blessings without aspiring after holy con- 
formity to the divine image? Is heaven promised? but what 
is there in heaven but an influence of transformation into the 
likeness of the God who reigns there? Has God promised to 
give himself to his people to be their God ? what is there in 
God, his attributes, his favor, his presence, his glory, but the 



28 THE PEOMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLT. 

same influence of assimilation? — what, in a word, is the ulti- 
mate end and amount of all that God has promised to his peo- 
ple, but that they shall be like him — like him in character, 
and like him in blessedness? ~No sooner does the soul of 
man come under the appropriate influence of the promises 
of God than the progress of assimilation to God is begun, 
which is to be perfected in the heavens. 

3. The same tendency is apparent in the circumstances or 
mode of the divine promises. Such is the manner of God's 
promises as to secure to the utmost their full energy on the 
soul. While the holiness of man is their grand and ultimate 
end, there is no sensibility or interest of man to which they 
do not appeal, and aim to render subservient to that end. 
They create no interference, but insure a perfect coincidence 
between man's temporal and eternal well-being. "Godli- 
ness" has the "promise of the life that now is, and of that 
which is to come." There is no interest of man in time, which 
they disregard or fail to promote ; no wants to which they do 
not furnish the adequate and the best supplies. There are no 
temptations, nor trials, nor afflictions, for which support and 
deliverance are not provided; no affections, no relations, no 
duties which portain to man's present state, to which their 
provisions do not fully extend, which they do not consult and 
regulate in a manner worthy of God. By precepts he regulates 
all, and by the promises engages to give grace and glory. " !N"o 
good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." 

Every sensibility of our nature is appealed to by these 
promises to urge us onward in the path of devotedness to God. 
In all the tender relations of life his promise invites us to him. 
" Leave thy fatherless children with me," saith God to his 
people, " I will preserve them alive, and let your widows trust 
in me." " When my father and mother forsake me the Lord 
will take me up." In all the offices of kindness to our fellow 
men, his promise meets us with its incentives. "He that 
giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord." Thus through the 
whole range and system of relative and social duties, God by 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLT. 29 

his promises appeals to our own natural affections and sym- 
pathies to excite us to conformity to his will. Nor is the ap- 
peal less powerful to our fears and our hopes. The promises 
of God as conditional, serve to give to fear on the one hand 
and to hope on the other, the most effectual operation. They 
fix all our anxieties concerning their fulfillment, where they 
should be fixed, on ourselves, and leave not one concerning 
w T hat God will do. In exact proportion, therefore, to the 
strength of our purposes and the measure of our doings, they 
give strength to hope and animation to effort. They afford 
great consolation. But it is consolation in the path of obedi- 
ence, and the end of the consolation itself is to refresh and 
cheer and animate the pilgrim in his vreary way, and thus to 
keep him in it to his final rest. 

Their fulfillment is certain. How painful for human guilt 
and human weakness to be left to mere conjecture on a sub- 
ject like this ! How perplexing, how inoperative is a mere 
intimation of what God might do ! We want the security and 
the efficiency of promise. Here is the energy which alone 
can take effect on the despondency of guilt and the weakness of 
corruption, and we have it. In respect to what will be done on 
the part of him on whom we depend, all becomes certainty, by 
the promises, the attributes, the oath of the living God. To 
gratitude, that strongest principle of human action, the appeal 
made by the divine promises is no less powerful. The being 
that is dead to gratitude is hopelessly dead. All that there is 
in the abundance and the riches of the promised gifts — all 
that there is in being the very object toward which such kind- 
ness is directed — all that there is in the most decisive manifes- 
tation of earnestness and solicitude to bless, and all that there 
is in the quiet confidence and unshaken security that the God 
of the promise will fulfill it, is brought in the full play of its 
energies upon the soul. Is there a particle of grateful sensi- 
bility ? it must be touched and moved by the love that beams 
upon us in the promises of a covenant God. Thus, throughout 
the whole range of moral action, and of human existence, 



30 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 

there is no duty to which man is not invited — no condition for 
which support and consolation are not furnished — no sensi- 
bility of the whole inner man which is not addressed by the 
promises of a faithful God. He can do nothing for God, he 
can suffer nothing for God, for which God will not reward 
him. He can feel nothing to excite and regulate and reward, 
in which there is not an influence from God. Thus surrounded 
by the fullness of God, encircled by the pledges of his favor — 
thus invited, urged and constrained by the riches of his gifts, 
with what a mighty energy is man impelled to consecrate 
himself, soul and body, to the service of his Maker ! 

4. The same tendency is apparent from the number and 
magnitude of the blessings promised. Of these we cannot 
attempt an adequate account. We may say that nothing 
can be added. For all things are comprised in the cove- 
nant of promise. "All things are yours, whether Paul 
or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life or death, or 
things present, or things to come, all are yours, and ye are 
Christ's ; and Christ is God's." We may say the grant in- 
cludes all that the infinite God can do for the well-being of 
man ; that it far surpasses all human comprehension and 
thought. It is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height 
of the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, which is con- 
cerned for the believer's interests — it is that he may know this 
by experience, and that he may be filled with all the fullness 
of God, that God has made a covenant with him. It is par- 
don, grace, and eternal glory. It is pardon. It is cancelling 
the debt of guilt and eternal condemnation, with deliverance 
from hell and restoration to the acceptance and friendship of 
man's offended Sovereign, and thus offering to the benevolence 
of God a way of access to guilty men, whereby it is as free to 
expatiate and pour its blessings upon him as had he never 
sinned. It is grace — grace to sanctify, sustain and comfort, 
to guide, to strengthen and keep — grace to recover man fallen 
through apostasy from God, to his original destiny in character 
and happiness — grace to animate by love, to invigorate by 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLT. 31 

faith, to gladden with victories over sin and death and hell — 
grace to remove each trace of moral deformity from the soul, 
and replace there the perfect likeness of God — grace to give 
the cheerfulness of hope and the joys of triumph at God's 
judgment-seat — grace by which we behold with open face as in 
a glass the glory of the Lord, and are changed into the same 
image from glory to glory. It is eternal glory — glory in 
heaven — glory in that perfect purity and divine excellence 
which adorns the saved in God's immediate presence — glory 
in that assimilation to God and his Son which makes us one 
with them — glory in that communion of affection and that 
fellowship of activity with God and the full assembly of angels 
and the redeemed — glory on that throne of glory with the 
palm of victory and crown of life — glory in those ecstasies of 
the rapt spirit with songs to him that sitteth on the throne 
and to the Lamb — glory in that endless progress of perfection 
and bliss, rising from the thrones of angels and arch-angels by 
an endless approximation toward an absolute likeness to God 
himself. Thus is heaven opened to man by the promises 
of God ; thus is all there is in heaven, all there is in God, 
all there is in the universe, concentered and poured upon the 
heart of man by the promises of the immutable God. For 
what? To allure him " to be a partaker of the divine nature" 
— the holiness of God. 



REMARKS. 

1. We see the error of those who aim to derive comfort only 
from the divine promises. There are those who rest their 
hopes on faith without works, regarding the promises of God 
as ample security for every blessing, without obedience. To 
say nothing of the prostration of the divine law thus in- 
volved — the law of which it was said, " Till heaven and earth 
pass one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass till all be 
fulfilled" — the notion is a direct and palpable perversion 
of the very promises of God, which are pleaded as its 



32 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 

warrant. Where is the promise of life except to patient 
continuance in well-doing? Do you say the promise is to 
faith? True, but to what faith? "Faith without works is 
dead being alone." True, the promise is to faith, but it 
is to faith in its true nature and appropriate operations. 
It is the faith whose fruit is unto holiness, whose end is 
everlasting life. Away then with this fearful perversion 
of the grace of the Gospel. Its exceeding great and precious 
promises are given to promote practical holiness. Woe to 
him who makes them a warrant for dispensing with that holi- 
ness, and for securing its hopes and consolations to those who 
remain in the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity. 

Others there are who make the application of the promises 
to depend on the belief of their own personal interest in them, 
as if to believe one's self to be interested in the promises of 
God really made us so. This perversion is equally gross. 
The promises of God given to promote holiness, and made to 
nothing but holiness, do these secure an interest in their bless- 
ings to him who has no holiness ? Does man secure such an 
interest, because he believes he has an interest in them, when 
he has not ? Because he believes a lie, is that lie changed into 
truth ? Beware, my brethren, of errors like these. Any use of 
the promises of God which excludes their sanctifying influ- 
ence is to pervert them to your eternal undoing. 

There is yet another error nearly allied to these, and still 
more common. There are those who though they deny not 
that the only warrant for the hopes of the Gospel is obedience 
to the Gospel, yet seem practically to disregard the convic- 
tion. Their concern is to discover the evidence of an interest 
in the promises, rather than to create that evidence, by in- 
creasing their holiness. Their chief design is to apply the 
promises, while the chief design of God is to secure the practi- 
cal influence of the promises. Their great concern is about 
the fulfillment of the promises in their own case ; God's is 
that they comply with the condition of their fulfillment ; his 
purpose is that they should render obedience to his precepts, 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 33 

and thus, so to speak, take the comfort of his promises made 
to such obedience as they go along ; that the evidence of an 
interest in his promises to obedience, and the comfort and the 
hopes authorized by his promises, should co-exist. And here 
unquestionably is the reason why so many Christians are un- 
able, as they say, to apply the promises. They have more 
solicitude to enjoy the comforts of the promises than to render 
the obedience to which the promises are made. If any of you, 
my brethren, know this to be your case, I would say to you, 
be not so anxious for comfort ; be not so concerned for your 
hope, be not always exploring your past experience to find 
comfort in that, by applying the promises. Rather give your- 
self up to the sanctifying influence of God's promises. Let 
that weight and pressure of motive which these present, come 
in upon your heart to waken you to holy obedience ; be zeal- 
ous, be active, be laborious, steadfast, immovable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, and you will have com- 
fort enough and hope enough. There will be no difficulty in 
applying the promises of God in such a course. To such a 
course they are made, and they will meet you at every step 
in it, with all their fullness of blessing. 

2. How great are the obligations of the people of God to 
holy obedience. Had God required obedience by the mere 
sanction of law, by the weight of his authority and the pen- 
alty, none could deny or doubt their obligation. Indeed, that 
he has qualified man to become a partaker of the divine 
nature, to become like himself in moral character, is enough 
in itself to prompt to a conformity so exalted, so divine. But 
what shall we say of our obligations when we reflect that we 
are invited and urged to the adoption of such a character by 
the promised blessings of the covenant of God. Think what 
they are, — blessings of infinite value and extent, blessings 
temporal and spiritual, present and eternal, for the soul and 
the body. "Whatever can be useful or desirable to them as 
immortal beings — whatever God himself can give — are com- 
prised in the promises of his love ; yea, himself, the sum of 



34 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 

all good, the overflowing fountain, the inexhaustible ocean 
whence every stream of joy flows, he promises to them as their 
everlasting possession. 

To this boundless good, what security is given in these 
promises ? The unchangeable truth of the unchangeable God 
is that security, and all is certainty. With what repose and 
peace and confidence may the guilty creature man, rely for 
the fulfillment of what a faithful God has promised. Oh, what 
is it to regard one's self as interested in promises like these ; 
what is it for him to look through time and onward to eter- 
nity, and to behold these promises advancing to a regular, 
ceaseless, certain accomplishment in his own behalf, through- 
out his never-ending being ? And what are the obligations of 
such an heir of promise, so lately an heir of hell ? Can he 
slight them — can he resist them ? My brethren, have we an 
interest in these promises ? — are we looking to their fulfillment 
in us ? — are we expecting the infinite God to do for us what 
he has engaged to do for his people ? Is that God whose truth 
is as the great mountains, and whose faithfulness endureth for- 
ever, the promiser — and are his promises the charter of our 
hopes? Is this our anticipated inheritance — that God will 
do for us all he has promised to the heirs of his salvation ? 
What then shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits ? 
Shall we not present our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and 
acceptable to God — is not this our reasonable service? Is 
God so solicitous to sanctify and bless us as to give these ex- 
ceeding great and precious promises ? Has he thus opened to 
us all the treasures of his own benevolence, and by all this 
power of motive, summoned us to perfect holiness in his fear ? 
To whom then, shall we live if not to him ? We have the 
seal of his promises, the blood of the everlasting covenant. 
Doubt not then the stability of that covenant. On God's 
part it is immutable, like himself. Ratify it on yours, and all 
is safe. Here indeed you may be tried and often walk in 
darkness, but soon you shall know what it is for God to fulfill 
what God has promised. On Mount Zion, in the songs and 



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 35 

ecstasies of salvation, you shall know and feel— yea, all hell 
and heaven too shall confess — that he has not deceived you. 
The reality shall displace every doubt, and show that what 
God hath said, God hath done. 

3. How unhappy the condition of those who derive no in- 
fluence from the promises of God. There are those on whom 
these high and holy motives have no sanctifying power, and 
of course no consoling influence. They leave the cold and 
stubborn heart free from every holy affection, every devout 
aspiration, every joyful hope which the God of mercy has 
thus aimed to awaken in the bosom of guilty man ! What 
degradation is this ? To remain so insensible to these designs of 
God's mercy — to cherish such a sordid love of the world, as to 
counteract all the holy, cheering influence of the promises of 
God, and after the fullness of blessing thus proffered, and 
the prospects which they open to his hopes, to be left 
through the love of sin, with no prospect before him but that 
of a dark and woeful damnation ! 

My dear friends, can you consent thus to live and die, to go 
through your whole probation blessed with such proffers from 
the God of grace — voluntary exiles from his love and friend- 
ship, without God and without hope, and thus poor, miserably 
poor for time and eternity, to reject the blessings, which 
by the promises, the oath of God, you are invited to accept. 
Oh, without these blessings, if you have no faith in God, all 
hope will expire, no mercy can be asked, and forsaken, friend- 
less, an outcast from all good, you must be plunged into the 
realities of eternity, hopeless of love, hopeless of the least 
good from the God of eternity. Oh, fellow-sinner, open your 
eyes once upon the vision of Christian promise, the inheritance 
of God's covenant — accept the offered grace, and all things 
are yours, things present and things to come. 



III. 

THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

Eebeews xi. 16. 
" But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly." 

It is one obvious design of the revelation of God to gild the 
scenes of this fading and transitory world with bright visions 
of everlasting glory beyond it. This life is represented as a 
pilgrimage — heaven as our home ; and we are summoned to 
set our affections on things above and not on things on the 
earth. Nor is that world held out to the people of God as an 
uncertain possession, but as an inheritance secured by the 
promises of eternal truth; not as an inadequate reward for 
the service required to obtain it, but as a gift which will be- 
speak the bounty of the Giver. 

Such were the anticipations of those ancient worthies, 
spoken of by the apostle in the text. " These all died in 
faith" — i. e., Abraham and those who were heirs with him of 
the same promise; "not having received the promises, but 
having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and 
embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and 
pilgrims on the earth." "For," as the apostle adds, "they 
that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country. 
And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from 
whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to 
have returned. But now they desire a better country — that 
is, an heavenly ; wherefore God is not ashamed to be called 
their God ; for He hath prepared for them a city." 

The text in its connection is designed to present to us the 
manner in which the Christian in the exercise of lively faith 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 37 

regards heaven. To this subject I would now call the atten- 
tion of my audience in the following particulars : 

L The Christian in the exercise of lively faith practically 
regards heaven as a reality. There is an assent to what the 
saints declare concerning a future world of happiness, which 
brings no definite image of the object to the mind, and makes 
no practical impression on the heart. Thousands there are 
who will acquiesce in the truth of all that we say, and in 
some sense in all God says, of that world, and yet remain as 
anxious about this world and as indifferent about that which 
is to come, as if they believed the very reverse of what is said 
to be true — as if earth were the only reality, and heaven and 
all it contains a shadow. ISTow it is the nature and influence 
of faith to reverse this practical estimate of things. " Faith 
is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not 
seen." Faith in the mind gives to its object the substance 
and weight of reality. When heaven is its object, heaven to 
that mind is reality, not less truly than the objects of sense 
that here surround us. Instead of that state of mind which 
can receive vivid impressions only from material and sensible 
things, there is another state of mind — that which gives reality 
to things unseen. As faith in man's testimony can make us 
think, and feel, and act, as if there was such a place as Lon- 
don, so faith in God's testimony can make us think, and feel, 
and act, as if there was such a place as heaven. The mind 
can bring itself under the same conviction, that there is a 
God, as that there are such beings as men ; the same convic- 
tion that God has testified of the invisible realities of another 
world, as we have, that men tell us of things we have never 
seen ; and the same conviction that what God says is reality, 
as we have that what men say is real. Indeed, we have only 
to get rid of those mental perversions, which sin occasions, 
our sloth, our worldliness, our absorption in vanity, and to 
come to the testimony of God, as ready to believe him as we 
are to believe one another, and we should have the same full, 
practical conviction of heaven and its realities, as we should, 



38 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

were every saint and angel now to come and tell us, "It is 
just what the Bible says it is, for we have seen it all." Such 
is faith. "When we give up the mind to God's testimony, as 
we give it up to man's testimony, then we have faith in God 
— the faith that gives reality to what He testifies. 

Faith, then, brings heaven in view, opens its gates, and 
looks in upon its glories. It sees the order, the harmony, the 
purity, and the joys of blessed spirits made perfect; it sees 
the Redeemer of men in exaltation there, and God in that full- 
ness of his glory which imparts to heaven its raptures. Earth 
with heaven thus realized to the mind retires into the back- 
ground of contemplation, and sinks away into comparative 
obscurity. Its honors fade, its pleasures wither, its pomp 
vanishes, even its sufferings appear but for a moment, and the 
soul is swallowed up in that eternal weight of glory which is 
set before it. Such is the power of faith, and in proportion to 
its degree in the children of God, it strips the world of that 
imposing aspect of reality which hides from man every thing 
on the other side of time ; it reduces it to its true character of 
a phantom, and brings the heaven of God's revelation near 
enough to make us realize that there is such a world ; and we 
think, and feel, and act, and suffer, and live, and die, under 
the impression of its reality. 

II. Faith leads the Christian to regard heaven as a satisfy- 
ing portion. The man of the world looks not beyond this 
life for happiness. Exclusively devoted to schemes of earthly 
enjoyment, his cares and desires and efforts center in their ac- 
complishment. When the sun of prosperity shines bright, he 
is at rest, he has all that his heart can wish. So had the rich 
man, when he said, " Soul, take thine ease." But alas ! on 
what sand these hopes are built ! Every such man is cheating 
himself with the dream, that that will prove real which the 
living God has pronounced hopeless. What if worldly pros- 
pects are the brightest, God has pronounced a curse on the 
world, and behold the reverses which it brings. Friends die — 
neighbors become enemies — children bring down our gray 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 39 

/ 

hairs with sorrow to the grave — splendor palls on the sight — 
losses and disappointments follow — health decays — diseases 
and pains torment the frame, and the boasted Babel of human 
bliss crumbles into melancholy ruin. Not so with the Chris- 
tian. By faith he is led to see by contrast with heaven, how 
vain this world is, and to abandon it as his portion. True, he 
does not refuse — he gratefully receives — the blessings which 
Divine goodness provides for him. But then, he does not look 
to them as his portion ; he does not regard them as essential 
to his happiness. He habitually looks beyond these, and re- 
gards his treasure as laid up in another world. This world 
may pour its gifts upon him in rich profusion, but heaven is 
not forgotten. He is a pilgrim and stranger, and though he 
travel through a country smiling with verdure and beauty, he 
still values his home in the heavens. He remembers its joys, 
and scarcely prizes them less than were the scene around 
covered with desolation, and his path planted with thorns. 

The same principle leads him to form a just estimate of the 
trials of life. Shocks severe to nature may be received ; and 
though not without emotion, yet not with despair, not with 
repining. In the world he expects tribulation. When he 
mourns, it is not without hope. He does not feel under the 
sorest bereavement that all is lost. Nay, rather estimating 
the afflictions of time as he is taught to estimate them by his 
heavenly Father, he knows he has lost nothing. His suffer- 
ings are but the chastisement of a paternal hand, and any 
thing that promotes his fitness for the world of his hopes can 
be welcomed as a blessing. His journey may be dreary and 
toilsome — darkness may surround him — difficulties, and dan- 
gers, and trials may infest his way — but his consolation is, all 
this will soon be over, and he shall then be at home. Shall 
he then be dejected, because in the journey of a day, the ac- 
commodations of the road are defective ? Shall he feel that 
all is lost, because the lodging-place for a night is uncomfort- 
able? No. He rather hastens onward, and presses toward 
his object with greater eagerness. He thinks not of taking up 



40 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

his abode in a land of strangers, of enemies, and of want. He 
seeks a better country. There, will be no disappointment. 
Heaven will afford all the happiness his soul desires. " Already 
he kens its hills of salvation, where reigns eternal day, and 
where everlasting spring abides.' 7 Gird thyself, then, O my 
soul! and hold on thy course. Heaven will make ample 
amends for all the toils and sufferings of the way to it. 

IH. Faith leads to ardent desires and cheerful expectations 
of heavenly happiness. Amid all the hopes of heavenly hap- 
piness cherished in this world, there is but little just concep- 
tion of the nature of that happiness. All hope to go to heaven 
when they die, and to be happy there. But few inquire what 
heaven is, in what its happiness consists, and what qualifies 
for its enjoyment. Their hope is a vague, undefined hope of 
deliverance from dreaded evil. It has no warrant but their 
own wishes — wishes fixed, to say the least, with equal strength 
on continuance in sin, as on exemption from its punishment. 
In those exercises which are spiritual and holy, and which 
will constitute the happiness of heaven, their own conscious- 
ness tells them that they find no delight, but rather disgust 
and weariness. Thus the very nature of heaven debars a 
worldly mind from all joy in the contemplation of it. A Mo- 
hammedan paradise would be thought of and desired with far 
more intense and delightful emotion. 

!Not so with the Christian. Between his taste and the nature 
of heavenly happiness there is a holy correspondence. Heaven 
is just such a heaven as he desires and loves to think of. His 
soul in its affections and tastes accords with the pure and holy 
joys of that world, and his meditations of them are sweet. 

The Christian desires heaven as a place of perfect freedom 
from sin and of perfection in holiness. It is indeed, a delight- 
ful thought to the Christian that in heaven there will be an 
end to all evil — that pain, and sickness, and death will be no 
more — that " God will wipe away all tears from their eyes." 
But it is a still more delightful thought that there, sin shall be 
no more. Here, sin is felt to be his greatest calamity. It is 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 41 

sin which causes his deepest sorrows ; it is sin which invades 
his peace ; it is sin which overcasts his prospects with doubt 
and gloom ; it is sin which costs him so many prayers, and 
struggles, and tears, and causes him to exclaim, " O wretched 
man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this 
death ?" There he knows every cause of sin will be removed ; 
there will remain no corrupt and deceitful heart to betray and 
ensnare the soul ; no evil world to tempt ; no adversary to de- 
ceive ; no cessation of Divine influence on the soul ; no lamen- 
tation for the falsehood, and treachery, and worldliness, and 
pride of a wicked heart. There he shall reach the consumma- 
tion of his wishes, his prayers, and his labors in the purity of 
heaven. He prizes heaven for this, for he knows the anguish 
of a broken heart. He knows what it is to sin against God ; 
what it is, in all the baseness of ingratitude, to wound the 
Saviour that bled and died for him ; and he knows what it is 
to mourn in heaviness and with weeping for this worst of evils. 
But there God will wipe away these tears. 

Not less dear to the Christian is heaven as a place of perfect 
holiness. Those who know not the happiness arising from this 
source by experience may form no adequate conceptions of it. 
But the Christian knows enough of it to know that religion — 
that holiness is happiness. He knows that perfect holiness is the 
perfection of his immortal nature ; that it is a refined and holy 
happiness only which is suited to spiritual beings, and that 
without it the disembodied spirit must be poor and wretched. 
This is the happiness which springs from the union of the soul 
with God, from uniformity of the will with his will, from 
fellowship with him in all the affections, and feelings, and pur- 
poses of the soul, and from bearing his perfect image. Happi- 
ness arises from a frame of soul suited to its object, and is great 
in proportion to the capacity to receive and the power of the 
object to impart it. "When the soul, therefore, in most exalted 
state becomes perfect — when every faculty, affection, and sen- 
sibility are brought into perfect unison with the infinite and 
uncreated source of all good — its happiness must be the most 



42 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

pure and perfect. God, the ever-blessed God, knows no other. 
This is that state of perfection, of moral exaltation, in which 
what gives pleasure to God, gives pleasure to the creature ; in 
which there is a participation in the same feelings — in which 
the soul drinks at the same fountain, and in which the charac- 
ter and the bliss of God become the character and the bliss of 
his creatures. Such is the heaven the Christian desires. He 
looks to it as the place where the rajs of the Deity will be 
softened to his inspection, where, surrounded with his glory, 
every desire will expire in the bosom of his God, and where, 
in the triumphs of perfect holiness, God's own blessedness will 
become the portion of his soul. 

Inseparable from all this are the desires of the Christian for 
the society and the employments of heaven with its more 
particular sources of happiness. The society of that world 
will be made up of an innumerable company of angels, and of 
redeemed men from " all nations, and kindreds, and people, 
and tongues." Of this bright host of happy spirits he hopes 
to be one. He has been taught what the interest is which 
angels take in man's well-being. He has been told of their 
song when the Redeemer came, of their joy when a sinner re- 
pents, and of their sympathies and kindness as ministering 
spirits to the heirs of salvation; and he knows with what 
warmth of affection they will welcome him to their blissful 
society above ; with what transport they will lead him up to 
the throne of God and the Lamb, and point him to the sur- 
rounding glories of his eternal abode ; with what joy they will 
relate, and he hear, the account of their embassies of love, 
while he was here training for heaven, and how, with a 
voice as the sound of many waters and the voice of mighty 
thunderings, they will strike the chorus of his eternal song. 

There, too, he expects to meet all the pious, redeemed from 
among men, — those with whom he has prayed and suffered 
and taken sweet counsel in this vale of tears. There he hopes 
to be re-united to those pious friends, if such he had— a hus- 
band, wife, parent, child — who have gone before or shall come 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 43 

after him ; — there, as a minister, the seals of his ministry and 
crowns of his rejoicing; and there those who, under God, 
brought him back from sin and ruin to all this blessedness ; 
there patriarchs and prophets, apostles and martyrs, the pions 
Baxters and Newtons and Edwardses who have taught him 
by their writings and animated him by their example ; there 
those rich monuments of grace, who, like Saul of Tarsus, once 
breathed out threatening and slaughter against the Lord, now 
shouting the praises of redeeming love ; there all those whose 
hearts have been renewed and sins forgiven, — all those who as 
laborers together with God are accomplishing his designs of 
mercy in this guilty world ; — all these he hopes to meet as 
friends and companions forever. In that world where the 
collisions of interest, the jealousies, the envyings, and the evil 
passions which deform this world, shall be unknown, he hopes 
to be united to them in spotless purity, in the most tender 
benignity and active love, and with one heart of gratitude and 
song of praise to that God and Saviour whose throne they en- 
circle. What has this selfish world to compare with inter- 
course like this, where every mind thus shines with light and 
every heart thus glows with love ? In such society the Chris- 
tian hopes to spend his eternity. 

Not less delightful to him is the anticipation of the employ- 
ments of heaven. These consist in active beneficence and in 
the pure and perfect worship of God. God has established a 
system of instrumentality, by which is produced, and will be 
forever, all the happiness of his holy kingdom. The grand 
principle on which it all depends is, that it is more blessed to 
give than to receive. Be the amount of happiness communi- 
cated what it may, greater still is the amount in performing 
the act of communication. Now heaven is a world of benefi- 
cence, of whose machinery of blessedness this principle is the 
mainspring — the animating, sustaining principle of its motions 
and all their results. In other words, heaven is a practical 
comment on this truth — that to do good is the highest happi- 
ness of which any being is capable. God is the great foun- 



44 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

tain of this blessedness ; and the united activity of all holy 
beings are streams of good — universal, unceasing, and im- 
mortal. !No selfish affection deforms or contracts or limits 
the benevolence of that world. Every mind is expanded with 
affections embracing universal good. To this object every 
eye is turned ; to advance it every heart thrills, every hand is 
devoted. No wonder that this world of sorrow is visited by 
ministering spirits from that, nor yet if other worlds and sys- 
tems should call them thither on the same errands of kindness. 
And who can tell the amount of that happiness which shall 
be the result of such a system of being, as it shall continually 
increase and extend with the growing ages of eternity, and 
continually proclaim the capacity of God to bless ? There to fly 
on angel's wings in executing God's commandments in the 
communication of good, is the employment in which the 
Christian hopes to bear a part in the world of spirits. 

Another principal employment in heaven is the worship of 
God. In almost every glimpse afforded us of that world, we 
find the angels and the spirits of just men made perfect, bow- 
ing with adoration and praise before the throne of the Eternal. 
Every thing we hear is the voice of thanksgiving — the uni- 
versal burst of gratitude and wonder and love, in songs of joy 
and transport, filling all its arches and making all its pillars 
tremble. To such a world God invites his children to direct, 
and to such a world they have directed their desires and hopes. 
Even in this world they often spend their sweetest hours in 
coming before the throne of God as his worshipers. Here 
they have been wont to come that they might adore the eter- 
nal Majesty — that they might derive new and deeper impres- 
sions of his Godhead — that new purposes of obedience might 
rise and strengthen in the soul — that they might taste anew 
the joys of pardoned sin, and fall at the feet and celebrate the 
love and mercy of their Saviour. And they know enough of 
the pleasures of this employment, to know" that heaven would 
be no heaven to them without it. They long for heaven to 
know what heaven it would be with it. What it would be 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 45 

to stand before that throne of God, — there to behold the 
■unveiled glories of his face, and cry, under a full impression 
of the reality, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who 
was, and is, and is to come ;" — what it would be to behold 
their once crucified but now reigning Saviour — what it would 
be, after having loved and served him here below, to be ad- 
mitted into his immediate presence, to learn while enjoying 
the bliss of heaven what that Saviour has done to confer that 
bliss upon them. Oh how will the beaming kindness and love 
of Jesus waken the soul to the liveliest transports of gratitude 
and joy, and call forth the song, " Worthy is the Lamb that was 
slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, 
and honor, and glory, and blessing ; for thou wast slain, and 
hast redeemed us to God by thy blood." 

It is this song, with the emotions which prompt it, that will 
give the most ecstatic charm to their immortality, and cause 
the joy of heaven to be full. That he may adore, and love, 
and praise, and serve God his Saviour, the Christian longs for 
heaven. 

REMARKS. 

1. What support under the trials of life, has the Christian 
in the exercise of lively faith? What if the world deceives 
and disappoints his hopes, heaven is a reality. What if 
poverty with its evils afflicts and depresses, a rich and a 
heavenly inheritance is his portion. What if the world afflicts 
in any shape, how light must appear all its trials and suffer- 
ings with the prospect of eternal glory ever dawning on the 
soul ! One view of that glory realized by faith and appro- 
priated by hope, will have an inconceivable influence on its 
possessor. It will arm him with the fortitude of a martyr ; it 
will invigorate with the strength of an angel — the strength of 
faith and love. It will impart such support as the blessed 
apostle felt when no sufferings could move him. It will ele- 
vate the soul with gratitude and devotion unspeakably great, 



46 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

for it will be gratitude and devotion awakened by the hope of 
heaven. It will render all earthly joys and sufferings vain, 
for, weighed in the scale with heaven, they are lighter than 
vanity. Let us then, my brethren, break off our affections 
from the earth, and believe what God hath told us of that 
world of blessedness. Let us fasten our hold on heaven, and 
then let this earth go as it may ; let its bitterest cup be given 
us ; let its heaviest stroke light on us ; yea, let the last con- 
flict come — we shall be able to say, "All is well; heaven is 
my home." 

2. We may see why Christians derive so little present con- 
solation from the prospect of future happiness, which the 
Bible reveals. It is not that the reality of such a world is not 
sufficiently evinced to their understandings — it is not, that 
there is not enough in it as an anticipated possession to cheer 
and gladden every step of their earthly pilgrimage. It is that 
their affections are still so strongly fixed on the world, that their 
conceptions of happiness are in such a degree confined to the 
enjoyments which earth can give. With such a state of mind, 
it is impossible that they should see heaven in that aspect of 
reality, and of course with those desires and expectations 
which elevate the soul above this world. The beaming glories 
of heaven cannot dawn on such a mind. The influence from 
things present is so strong, that the heart is but faintly touched 
by things eternal. These are in a manner hid by intervening 
objects, and removed into distant and dark obscurity. How 
can the vivid impressions of faith, the lively anticipations 
of hope, and the longings of desire touch the mind whose 
vision is bounded by time ! My brethren, if we would know 
the consolations of regarding heaven as a reality, of looking 
forward to it as a satisfying portion, of anticipating its purity 
and joys, we must think so little of the world, place so little 
dependence on it, and form such low expectations from it, 
that we can think of heaven — that we can believe there is a 
heaven — that we can be satisfied with heaven, and lon£ for 
and desire heaven as it is. It is in vain that God has told us 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 47 

there is such a world of joy — it is in vain that God by his in- 
vitations and promises, and Jesus by his blood, have been thus 
concerned to remove our doubts and anxieties, and cheer our 
dark and gloomy pilgrimage with the bright visions of that 
glory — it will be no heaven to us ; we must turn our eyes that 
way ; we must tear away these evils of materialism which hide 
or obscure our prospect, make heaven a reality, and fondly 
and intently dwell on the contemplation of it as our home. 

3. The Christian desires heaven as the world in which 
God's glory — his capacity to bless his moral creation — will be 
fully displayed. " When the earthly house of this tabernacle 
is dissolved, he looks for a city which hath, foundations, whose 
builder and maker is God." The visible universe around us 
discloses the glory of God, and so distinctly, as to take away 
all excuse from those who do not glorify Him as God. In 
that world, there shall be not merely such a manifestation of 
God as creates moral responsibility and renders disobedience 
inexcusable — not merely such a display of God as can be made 
through a material creation, or even in the happiness of im- 
perfectly sanctified minds, but such a manifestation to per- 
fectly pure and holy beings as is involved in the relation of 
their God. It is not an earthly country, but a heavenly — 
" wherefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God : for 
he hath prepared for them a city." That world shall tell the 
full glory of the great Architect who made it for them, and 
made it to show himself their God. There, all that is com- 
prehensive in the wisdom of God shall be revealed, without 
a cloud to obscure it, in the view of the happy beings assem- 
bled to behold it. There, the glory of his power is seen in re- 
moving every evil — in creating every good — in enlarging the 
capacity of creatures for purer and higher joys — in lavishing 
to bless, the wonders of Omnipotence upon them. There, 
the glories of his justice, the terror of hell, shall shine 
as the pledge and security of the everlasting perfection of the 
holy. There, the holiness of God in all its luster will beam 
forth to illuminate every mind and transform it into his own 



48 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

image from glory to glory. There, will be seen the glory of 
his goodness, pouring its eternal tide of blessedness, and telling 
all in the ecstasies of heaven that " God is love." In a word, 
there all the attributes of the Deity are fully expressed ; the 
glory scattered throughout the universe will be collected as in 
a sun, making that world the scene of his glories. And there, 
with an emphasis which the reality only can give to the in- 
spired thought, it will be seen and felt by. all in heaven, that 
"God is not ashamed to be called their God : for he hath pre- 
pared for them a city." 

By faith the Christian is transported to these happy regions, 
and walks with God. Thither he directs his thoughts and 
his desires, as the place where he shall see God as he is — God 
as his God, — thoughts and desires to be terminated in reality 
when he treads the threshold of eternity and saith, " Lo, this 
is my God ; I have waited for him, and he hath saved me." 

To conclude. "We all hope for heaven ; we believe it to be 
a world of unspeakable happiness, and we fondly hope, when 
death shall take us away from this world, to be admitted 
to the joys of that. But have we seriously and carefully ex- 
amined the foundation of these hopes ? Have we inquired 
what heaven is — what its happiness is — what we must be to 
be qualified to enjoy it ? Do we give — are we willing to give, 
in our habitual views, that reality to heaven which makes 
this world comparatively nothing to us % Do we so look to it 
as our grand and only inheritance, as to displace the world 
from our supreme affections % And is it the freedom from sin 
— is it the perfect holiness — is it the bright manifestation of 
God — is it the holy society — is it the holy employments and 
the holy joys of that world which endear it to us ? Is it such 
a heaven that awakens our desires, and is the object of our 
hopes ? These are questions which must be answered. 

Some there are, I trust, who can answer them in the affirma- 
tive. They may indeed regret that their faith is so weak, 
their desires so faint, and their hopes so fluctuating. Often 
may they complain that their fears exceed their hopes, and 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 49 

sigh for clearer and brighter discoveries of that world of light, 
and joy, and holiness. They long for such a heaven. They 
expect no other. Are there any such before me ? I would 
say, faint not. This conformity of affection to God, to Christ, 
to angels and redeemed spirits — these desires for heaven — are 
preparing you to partake of its blessedness. You are now on 
your pilgrimage. You wander in a vale of tears. Tempta- 
tions, and sorrows, and sins await you. But your portion is 
not here. Your treasure is not here. You seek a better 
country. Think often of the glorious prize. Consider who is 
your conductor, and to what he is conducting you. He who 
made heaven knows the true sources of bliss, and he it is who 
will give you heaven. While you pursue the path of holiness, 
you are in the road to heaven. Heaven is already begun 
within you — heaven already dawns on the soul. Soon its full 
glories shall burst on your enraptured sight. Your spiritual 
joys, so often interrupted and so faint, shall be constant, full, 
eternal. One spirit shall reign through heaven ; one song 
employ every tongue. From glory to glory you shall be 
changed. You shall be like Jesus, and near his throne. You 
shall see him as he is, and God shall be all in all, forever and 
ever. 

It is now with painful emotion that I turn to another class 
of my audience. Alas, there are many whose hopes of heaven 
are mere delusion. They dream of .being happy there, when 
the eternal God has declared except they be born again they 
cannot see his kingdom, and when their own consciences tell 
them that they have not been born again, — they dream of 
happiness in heaven without knowing or caring to know what 
heaven is, — when they know that the very elements of heaven, 
the joys that arise from love to God from the exercise of 
pure and spiritual affections, from prayer and praise and ready 
obedience, are to them irksome and disgusting. 

And, my dear friends, is it possible that witli such a state of 
mind you could be happy in heaven ? Would not a religion 
made up of the faith and the hopes and the anticipations of 
3 4 



50 THE BETTER COUNTRY. 

such a heaven as the Bible reveals, spoil all your present en- 
joyments? 

What then is there in heaven to bless you ? God you do 
not love ; Christ you do not love ; angels and redeemed men 
you do not love. To see God is not your desire ; to behold the 
Saviour who has died for you, to be like him, to praise him, 
is not your desire. In the society of that world you could not 
be happy — in its employments you could not engage, — its 
songs you could not sing. The God who reigns there you hate ; 
the Saviour whose love and mercy calls forth the echoing 
songs of gratitude and salvation, you despise. No — there is not 
an ecstasy felt there which you could feel ; not a note in the 
eternal song which you could sing. How could you bear 
to stand before the God whom you hate, and endure the 
blaze of his glory ? "No. Amid that holy, happy throng you 
would feel yourself to be a forsaken, solitary outcast ; and 
amid all its joys you would sink and wither as under a con- 
tinual sense of dissolution. Instead of uniting in the hallelu- 
jahs of that world, your cry would be — " Fly, O my soul, from 
this place of torment, heaven is hell to me ;" and yet you hope 
for heaven ! and are quietly expecting to be happy there ! 



IV. 

PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 

Acts xvi. 25. 

" And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God, and the pris- 
oners heard them." 

The Christian looks beyond this world for complete happi- 
ness. Yet while here on earth he has something which the 
world can neither give nor take away. Deprive him of all that 
which ministers to the comfort and happiness of worldly men, 
and the loss of which will make them wretched, and still he is 
happy. We have a striking example of this in the text. We 
here are pointed to the gloom of a prison, and see two of onr 
fellow-beings, the objects of the scorn and hatred of the world, 
friendless, poor and destitute, shut up in its inmost cell, their 
feet made fast in the stocks, and their backs torn with the 
scourge. They are awake at the midnight hour, and their 
voices are heard by those who are near them. Are they then 
recounting their trials and sufferings, mourning and repining 
under their hardships, execrating the tyranny of their judges, 
and the cruelty of their executioners ? No ; it is the voice of 
prayer, and songs, and praise that resounds through the dun- 
geon. Wretched and forlorn as their condition appears, they 
are happy ; they are singing praises with a loud voice to God. 

Though we are not exposed to the same trials which these 
men endured, yet even in the height of prosperity something 
is wanting. The richest abundance of sensual gratification 
leaves a void which the world can never fill. 

What then can make us happy in any condition, or under 
any circumstances ? We answer — that which made Paul and 



£>2 PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 

Silas so happy in the prison at Philippi. These holy men had 
neither worldly resources nor hopes. But they had an inward 
joy, which external trials and sufferings could not prevent 
from overflowing in songs of praise, in that hour of darkness 
and suffering. 

The same sources of support and joy are open to every real 
Christian. Let us, then, examine them for our edification and 
comfort. 

I. One source of their happiness was their comparative esti- 
mate of what they gained, with what they lost. It is by such 
comparisons that we form our estimate of almost every condi- 
tion in human life. In this world, that is reasonably esteemed 
an eligible condition in which the good to be enjoyed far out- 
weighs the evil to be endured. That loss is trifling, which still 
leaves its possessor abundantly furnished with the means of 
enjoyment, while the same loss would be deeply grievous to 
him who by it has lost his all. To judge, therefore, correctly 
of one's loss, we must bring into the account what still re- 
mains. What then was the case of these prisoners ? Had 
they lost all ? Far from it. What still remained in their pos- 
session ? Blessings so great, so rich, that all earthly blessings 
put together were comparatively nothing. Blessings so great, 
that no worldly loss could lessen them — so rich, that no 
worldly loss could impair them. Were they in prison — it 
was not the prison of death. Were they in chains — they still 
possessed the liberty of the sons of God. Did they endure the 
pains of the lash — they had peace which passeth all under- 
standing. Had they no hopes from the world — they had the 
hope of eternal glory. And who that was partaker of these 
blessings would count it insupportable hardship to bear a little 
contempt and pain \ Who that possessed millions would 
grieve at the loss of a penny % Thus the apostles regarded 
their condition. Faith opened to them new views, and gave 
them a different estimate of things from that which the men 
of this world form. It was not this world, but the world to 
come — not man, but God — not the body, but the soul — not 



PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 53 

time, but eternity, which they thought of. "When, therefore, 
we hear them say, "As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as 
having nothing, yet possessing all things," their language is 
intelligible. The mystery is explained. Their faith brought 
spiritual blessings, eternal blessings near, and, placing them 
by the side of earthly blessings, enabled them to form some 
just estimate of both. Thus their afflictions, their worldly 
hopes, seemed light and trifling compared with the glory 
which awaited them. The former were so small by compari- 
son as to be nothing ; the latter so great as to be every thing. 
II. These men were happy in the assurance that their suffer- 
ings were the means of great good. They were taught to re- 
gard suffering not only as inseparably connected with the 
crown of glory, in the presence of God, but as the appointed 
means of the preparation to wear it — the appointed means of 
growth in grace. The very first of blessings in their estima- 
tion was to have sin subdued in their hearts, and the image of 
Christ more fully enstamped on the soul. They therefore re- 
joiced ; they gloried in tribulation because "tribulation worketh 
patience, patience experience, and experience hope" — that 
" hope which maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is 
shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost" — love to God — 
that pure, holy, heavenly principle, that can make a heaven. 
They regarded their afflictions of a dungeon or a palace as the 
chastisements of their heavenly Father, laid upon them for 
their profit, that they might be partakers of his holiness. Such 
benefits they could not consider as dearly purchased by such 
means. They whose great object was to break off their affec- 
tions from earth — who wished to renounce its pleasures, and to 
rise above its allurements — they who ardently desired a grow- 
ing conformity to their Saviour's likeness, and to be made, in a 
fuller measure, partakers of the divine nature, could not but 
welcome the means appointed by God to produce these effects. 
They knew the divine influence of these means by their own 
blessed experience. They found their hearts more and more 
purified from the dross of corrupt affections, their faith 



54 PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 

strengthened, their love for their divine Master and devoted- 
ness to his service increased and confirmed more and more. 
For this blessing they were willing not only to pray and labor, 
but to suffer. They rejoiced in tribulation ; they rejoiced in 
the darkness of the dungeon, because there every Christian 
grace shone purer and brighter. With what sweet aspirations 
of praise did this chief of sinners and his companions pour out 
their souls for the sanctifying grace of God, and with what 
devout fervor implore it in still larger measures ? How happy 
in the assurance that these things were working together for 
their good — to see even in their heaviest trials not the frowns 
of God's anger, but only the graver countenance of eternal 
love — that every loss, every pain was the means appointed by 
divine mercy for perfecting their likeness to Christ ! 

Did we well understand this, how afflictions tend and are 
designed to bring eternity, and God, and heaven near, and 
how in this way these things of a moment are making us par- 
takers of God's holiness — did we see them as means to be 
worth as much as the end, they would be to us as unspeakably 
important as the end itself. 

III. Another cause of their happiness was love to him for 
whom they suffered. 

Love is the strongest passion of the human heart. It is de- 
light in the object loved. "What efforts will it not make — 
what sufferings will it not endure for the sake of that object ? 
With what cheerfulness and pleasure does it lead us to act or 
suffer ? How unhappy would it render us to be deprived of 
the opportunity to do either % The tender parent, the affec- 
tionate child, and faithful friend well understand the nature 
of this principle. In its present and most perfect manner it 
warmed the hearts of Paul and Silas. The love of Christ con- 
strained them to act, and to suffer for his sake. Their whole 
lives testify in the most decisive language to this. What 
things had been gain to them they counted loss for Christ, for 
whom they gladly suffered the loss of all things. When ar- 
raigned and scourged they departed rejoicing that they were 



PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 55 

counted worthy to suffer shame for his sake. They took pleas- 
ure in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses 
for Christ's sake. 

It was not a principle of pride and vain glory that animated 
these men. It was a flame of disinterested love to Christ that 
glowed in their breasts ; — it was that love which extinguishes 
every selfish regard ; which exalts its object so much that by 
the side of it all else is mean and trifling. It was this prin- 
ciple which one of them described when he said, " For me to 
live is Christ.^ They had no other supreme end to promote 
by living — no other reason why they wished to live. They 
were ready to be offered, they even longed to depart and be 
with Christ. Yet they were willing to abide longer in the 
flesh, that Christ might be magnified in their bodies. It was 
love to Christ that carried them through all their perils, 
and sustained them under all their sufferings. It was this 
that levelled every mountain, filled up every valley in their 
path ; it was love to Christ that renewed their strength — that 
lightened their toils and almost annihilated their sufferings ; — 
it was this that turned the dungeon at Philippi into the tem- 
ple of God, and brought forth, not the sighing of the prisoner, 
but the song of everlasting praise. Oh, my brethren, what 
love to Christ was this ! 

As intimately connected with their love to Christ, I ought 
to mention the great object of these men — the honor and glory 
of Christ — as another ground of their happiness. How ex- 
clusively their hearts were set on this object, and how nobly 
and perseveringly they pursued it, are points known to every 
one who is acquainted with their history. Consider the pic- 
ture drawn by one of them : " God hath set forth us apostles 
last, as it were, appointed to death, for we are made a specta- 
cle to the world, to angels, and to men. Even to this present 
hour we both hunger and thirst and are naked and are buffet- 
ted, and have no certain dwelling-place. We are made as the 
filth and offscouring of all things until this day." He adds, 
" None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear 



56 PAUL AND SILAS IN PKISON. 

unto me, that I may finish my course with joy and the ministry 
which I have received, to testify the gospel of the grace of 
God." There is no example on record of a more entire dedi- 
cation of the whole man to any other object, than this. They 
sought not the things which were their own but those which 
were Christ's. Ease, pleasure, honor, interest, life were no- 
thing in their view, and Christ was all in all. His honor and 
his glory, as displayed in subduing a revolted world to the 
obedience of faith, was their object, — on this their heart was 
set as supreme. Surrounded by enemies, insulted, deceived, 
deserted — in the darkness of a dungeon, in the jaws of death — 
you see them calm, cheerful, devoted, rejoicing, — willing to 
live, ready to die, to advance it. With a heart thus fixed on 
an object which was great and good and glorious enough to 
bring the Son of God from heaven — enough to awaken angels 
to new songs of praise, and, so to speak, to command the 
sweetest and warmest love of God himself — with such an 
object occupying their w T hole souls, they must be happy. 

Thus the glory of God their Redeemer darkened every other 
object ; their own wants dwindled to a point ; their own con- 
cerns — nay, the universe beside, shrunk to nothing. They 
showed a holy and sublime oblivion of themselves, and seemed 
absorbed in the effulgence of Deity — lost in the radiant beams 
of Jesus' glory. Happy prisoners ! Who would not envy 
them the possession of joys springing from such a source as 
this ? Well might they sing praises to God at midnight. 

That we may make a profitable use of this subject, let me 
call your attention to the following 



REMARKS. 

1. We see wherein it is true that godliness hath the prom- 
ise of the life that now is. Real religion in its nature is a rich 
source of support and joy in every condition. True it is, that 
the humble Christian, while struggling with his corruptions 
and his fears— while his knowledge of God is imperfect and 



PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 57 

his faith weak — may for a season sow in tears. But this is to 
be ascribed not to religion, but to the want of it ; not to the 
holiness, but to the remaining depravity of his heart. There 
is no viler slander on the religion of the gospel than that it 
makes its subjects gloomy and melancholy. Keligion gloomy? 
— religion make men unhappy? "Who then or where is a 
happy man ? Compare them ; compare the rich, the honorable, 
the gay — they who riot in sensual indulgence, who lie on beds 
of ivory and stretch themselves on their couches — who chant 
to the sound of the viol — with those who know the joys of re- 
ligion. Look at Paul and Silas in their prison ; see what 
religion can do to make men happy ; see what a luster it can 
shed on the gloom of a dungeon ; — how it can fill the mouth 
with songs of praise, while the limbs are racked with pain, 
and enable the happy spirit to soar above earth to heavenly 
bliss, while the body is bound in chains. You here see men 
raised by the force of their principles and by their inward 
joys, above all the trials, insults, injuries, temptations and 
sufferings which men or devils can inflict — happy, yea, joyful 
in the midst of them. And can any thing but religion do 
this? Can a regard to any other object — a love for any 
other being, a consecration to any other service — do so much ? 
Tell, ye lovers of the world, what would your pleasures, 
your indulgences, your objects, your motives, your habits, do 
for you confined in the darkness and gloom of a dungeon ? 
What will they do for you on the bed of death ? "What will 
they do for you when the eyes of the omniscient Judge are 
fixed upon you, and the final sentence is passing his lips ? 
Away, then, with these miserable grounds of reliance ; be 
ashamed of the wretched delusion, that religion is a gloomy 
thing. "When your dying bed shall be hung round with the 
gloom and despondency, the terrors and remorse of sin — when 
you shall hear the noise of the final day, then, oh, then, you 
will wish you had been the disciples of Jesus ! 

2. Religion is as good a thing now as in the days of the 
apostles. A different opinion is undoubtedly entertained by 



58 PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 

many. Multitudes suppose that some peculiar supports and 
consolations were given to them, which are not vouchsafed to us, 
and which we are in nowise to expect. That they had pecu- 
liar support under trials and peculiar joy in the Christian 
course, is not denied. But to what was it owing — to their 
miraculous gifts, or to their higher attainments in religion ? 
To which was it owing — to their miraculous gifts, or the holy 
feelings, that Paul and Silas sang praises to God in their dun- 
geon? Plainly to the latter. And why will not the same 
cause produce the same effects in our day? Will not the 
same faith, the same love, the same hope, the same devoted- 
ness to God, produce equal results ? If heaven were as much 
in our minds, as our chief possession, as it was in theirs — if the 
vanity and uncertainty of this world were as justly estimated 
— if growth in grace were equally prized — if the Saviour were 
loved as much — if the heart and soul were as much fixed upon, 
and occupied with his honor and his glory, could we fail to be 
happy as they were ? Is not heaven worth as much now as it 
then was ? Is not the world as really vain and unsatisfying 
now as it then was ? Is not conformity to the divine likeness 
as truly desirable ? Is not Christ as worthy of our love and 
confidence as of theirs ? Are not the benefits of his death as 
full to us as to them ? — the promises of his gospel as free ? Is 
not the glory of God in the salvation of men, and the joys and 
triumphs of his kingdom, as much to be loved ? Can any 
lapse of time change the objects, or the nature, or the power 
of religion ? Has the work of redeeming love lost its import- 
ance because years have elapsed since the Son of God died on 
the cross ? Are the realities of heaven no longer glorious be- 
cause a few centuries have passed away since the everlasting- 
doors were thrown open ? My brethren, find the man who 
makes the same comparative estimate of heaven and this 
world — who has the same sweet sense of forgiving mercy, the 
same hungering and thirsting after righteousness, the same 
love for Jesus, the same zeal for his glory — find the man who 
regards this life as the first short hour of an immortal exist- 



PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 59 

ence — who by faith in God has learned how to see, and feel, 
and surround himself with the realities of eternity, and there 
you will find the same principles which influenced the apos- 
tles — there you will find one equally happy in his spiritual 
and eternal portion. 

3. We see why Christians have not the same enjoyment now 
as in primitive days. It is not that religion must make its 
subjects unhappy ; it is not that the religion of Paul and Silas 
cannot do as much for others as for them. Religion is the 
same thing now, that it was in their day. The same sources 
of enjoyment are open to us as to them. The same love to 
Christ may rule in us. The benefits of his death are as full — 
the promises and privileges of his grace are as free, to us as 
to them. Our obligations are the same as theirs. Why then 
should not religion support, and cheer, and bless the Christian 
under the little crosses of this tranquil age, as well as under 
the terrors which the annals of persecution record ? Alas ! 
here is the defect. They have not as much religion as they 
ought to have and might have. It is because they still cherish 
so much of that earthly-mindedness that debases the soul, 
blinds the understanding, hardens the heart, and destroys its 
relish for spiritual enjoyments. They do not think enough of 
heaven to reduce the things of the world to their true insig- 
nificance. These are so dear, and the loss of them so bitter, 
that they are not ready to part with them for a larger measure 
of faith and holiness. Suffering to them, is too high a price 
for the peace of pardoned sin, and for a perfect likeness to 
their Saviour. They do not feel sufficiently that love of Christ 
whose height, and depth, and length, and breadth is enough 
to bear them up under every pressure of affliction — that de- 
votedness to his honor — that absorption of soul in the glory of 
God their Redeemer, that bears it away from earth, and anni- 
hilates every thing beside. Hence it is that they so much 
want the supports and joys of religion. Hence they are so 
much harassed by doubts, so easily disturbed by the changes 
of the world. Hence they pass their lives in so much fruitless 



60 PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON. 

regret and impious distrust. They are not doing their Master's 
work. The ways of Zion mourn. Sinners are going on in sin, 
thronging the broad way — falling into perdition, as it were, 
every hour. They look on and stand idle. Hence they are 
guilty and unhappy ; they dare not cherish the hope of 
heaven, nor dare they abandon it. How unhappy — how almost 
wretched they are ! Mustering fortitude and resolution to bear 
the burden of guilt and self-condemnation that weighs on the 
conscience, and still leaving the cause of Christ to languish, 
and souls to perish. 

My brethren, these things ought not so to be. We ought 
to understand our calling better. We ought to know our pri- 
vileges better. We ought to have religion enough — we ought 
to esteem heaven enough — we ought to love Christ and God's 
glory and the souls of men enough to rise above these external 
things, and do the work to which we are called. The un- 
happiness we feel is owing to this want of religion. Although 
there are many things which cannot but be grievous, yet there 
is no event, no pain, which religion may not relieve with its 
consolations. It has done it. It has done it in the case before 
us. It has done it in later times. It has disarmed the rack 
and the fire of power to torture ; it has lifted the soul up to 
the bliss of God's presence and begun heaven's song, while 
the body was consuming in the flames. All this it has done ; 
all this it can do again. That man cannot be unhappy in 
whose heart the peace of God rests. Let us, then, my brethren, 
think more of heaven and less of earth. Let us by faith often 
bring near the glories of the upper world, and compare them 
with the vanities of this. Let us prize the image of God in 
our souls, and regard our afflictions as brightening that image. 
Let our hearts be rilled with love to that Saviour who has 
loved us and died for us. Let us make God's glory our 
portion, and although the sun be darkened and the moon 
withdraw its light, this dark world itself will be changed 
into a sanctuary, like to that temple where the glory of God 
doth lighten it, and where the Lamb is the light thereof. 



PAUL AND SILAS IN PEISON. 61 

And now, my dear brethren, let me make a personal appli- 
cation of this subject to each of you. You profess to be Chris- 
tians — to have experienced the religion of the gospel in its 
power. What does your religion do for you ? Does it sustain 
under trials % Does it place you at rest with respect to the 
changes of this world ? Does it give heaven its proper import- 
ance when compared to earth ? Are spiritual blessings the 
chief objects of desire ? Are you willing to suffer, that your 
faith may be increased — that you may be more like your 
Saviour % Does the blessed Jesus occupy the purest, warmest 
affections of the soul ? Does his glory veil every other object 
in darkness ? Have you that peace, and hope, and joy which 
these things afford % Are you thus ripening for glory ? If 
not, where and what is religion ? Is that religion which knows 
nothing of these things — is that religion which sinks under the 
pressure of earthly trials — is that religion which makes earth 
dearer to the heart than heaven — which leaves growth in 
grace, Christ in all his excellency and beauty, and God in all 
his glory out of the account ? My brethren, you know it is 
not. Why then profess to have religion when you know that 
you have none ? Why be satisfied to have so little ? Why 
not have enough to smooth and cheer your path through this 
thorny world ? Why not have enough to support you in the 
hour of death ? Why not enough to rejoice that life is wear- 
ing away — that heaven is approaching, and will soon be your 
eternal home I 



V. 

THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 

Psalms xvi. 8. 

" I have set the Lord always before me ; because he is at my right hand I shall 

not be moved." 

If we observe the pursuits of the men of the world, we see 
how they set their object, be it what it may, always before 
them. It is well understood that the constancy of purpose 
and perseverance of effort which are necessary to success in 
any worldly enterprise, cannot be maintained unless the ob- 
ject of pursuit be continually kept before the mind. The 
same necessity exists in religion. If we would derive any 
practical influence from God, and so partake of the promised 
blessings, God must be to us, in our habitual regard, an ever- 
present God. 

The psalm from which the text is taken, in its primary 
and prophetic import, doubtless refers to one greater than 
David, even the Lord Jesus Christ. And whether this and 
similar passages can have more than one application, which 
some deny, is quite immaterial. Whether the text has but 
one application, and that to the Son of God, or whether it has 
a secondary application to the Psalmist himself, the speaker, 
by the weight of his own example and as the result of his own 
experience, teaches us the same important truth, viz. : 

That habitual piety is attended with the constant protection 
and friendship of God. " I have set the Lord always before 
me ; because he is at my right hand I shall not be moved." 

I propose to consider — 

First, "What it is to set the Lord always before us ; 



THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION" OF GOD. 63 

Second, The blessings which are certain to follow. 

I. To set the Lord always before us, is to maintain a supreme 
and habitual regard for God, according to the relations which 
he sustains toward us. Every one knows what it is thus to 
regard any worldly object. A man has fixed his supreme re- 
gard on wealth. The object may not be one of incessant 
thought and exclusive contemplation. He may often think 
and talk on other subjects. Still he has formed a practical 
estimate of wealth, as the means of happiness. He has fixed 
it on the mind as an object of commanding pursuit; and 
whatever other subject may occupy his thoughts, he carries 
with him an ever-wakeful remembrance of his main object 
and an habitual regard for it, so that he holds himself in con- 
stant readiness to act in reference to it. Let any means of 
promoting it occur, or let any event happen to interfere with 
and defeat his purpose, and you will always find that his ob- 
ject is before him. In whatever way his end is to be attained, 
whether by hoarding, or by accumulation, or by use, to that 
he resorts — whatever means will contribute to the success of 
his design, those he adopts — and whatever tends to hinder or 
defeat the accomplishment of his object, that he avoids to the 
extent of his power. If by the force of some peculiar temp- 
tation he can be diverted from the pursuit — if under some 
sudden stroke of adversity the controlling power of his 
object seems to be suspended — still no sooner is there time to 
recover from the shock than you find that he has not aban- 
doned his object, but is again under its full and habitual in- 
fluence. Thus, according to his estimate of its adaptation to 
his happiness — and according to all the ways and means of 
turning it to his account— you find that his object is continu- 
ally before him. This we all understand. 

Now it is precisely in the same way that we set the Lord 
always before us. It is true, the nature of God and his rela- 
tions toward us differ widely from those of the world. Still, 
to place him before us as a practical object — that is, as a being 
whose nature and relations to us are realities of practical in- 



64: THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 

fluence — and thus to regard him supremely and habitually, is 
to set the Lord always before us. 

God is a being of infinite perfection. He is a God of infinite 
goodness, of unspotted holiness, of inflexible justice, of un- 
changeable truth. He is the Omniscient, Omnipresent, Al- 
mighty God. To set him always before us, is habitually to 
regard him as such a God. 

God is our Lawgiver and Sovereign. He has given us his 
laws as the rule of all accountable action. We are under his 
rightful dominion, and are to remain under it throughout our 
own immortality, according to the sanctions by which his claims 
are enforced, and the retributions of eternity are soon to be 
fixed. 

God is our Creator, Preserver and Benefactor; and our 
obligations to him are the obligations of dependent, helpless 
and unworthy creatures, to a creating, persevering and all- 
providing God. 

God is our Redeemer and Sanctifier ; and it is only by the 
wonders of his mercy and his grace that we can have an 
authorized hope of deliverance from hell and elevation to 
heaven in his moral image, with meetness for its joys. 

God is a covenant God. In that covenant which he has 
made are the treasures of his goodness — all the provisions of 
grace for time and for eternity, guaranteed and made over to 
us on its own conditions. It is the charter of hope, whose 
security is the oath of God, whose promise is, all things that 
we need. 

God is our Judge and Eewarder. He has forewarned us 
that a day is coming, when the world and its works shall be 
burned up ; when, throned in the clouds of heaven and en- 
circled by hosts of angels, he will appear in judgment ; when 
the counsels of the heart shall be made manifest, and all the 
deeds done in the body shall be brought up for inspection and 
adjudication. He has announced the sentence that awaits us 
on that dreadful day, according to the character we shall be 
found to sustain, and apprised us that we shall be exalted to 



THE HABITUAL [RECOGNITION OF GOD. 65 

glory and happiness that fadeth not away, or be cast into the 
lake of fire which is the second death. He has taught us his 
displeasure toward us while we go on in sin ; and that all the 
the retributions of eternity become unchangeably fixed at 
death, and that die we may, at any moment. 

Now to maintain that habitual sense of God, which shall 
secure the practical influence of all these perfections and re- 
lations of God upon us, is to set the Lord always before us. 

Let us consider — 

II. The advantage of setting the Lord always before us. 

This part of the subject may be illustrated by some ex- 
amples in the different circumstances of life. 

1. Let us suppose that we do this in following the daily 
business of our life. The whole life of man ought to be a con- 
tinued act of religion ; and such is the condition of man in the 
world, that far the greater portion of life is made up of the 
performance or neglect of those duties which result from his 
worldly calling or occupation. Would we fill up this portion 
of our existence with its duties we must set the Lord always 
before us. Are we engaged in mercantile transactions — let us 
reflect that God is present — that our supreme Lawgiver and 
final Judge sees and knows whether we are satisfied with just 
and reasonable profits, whether we are desirous of imposing 
upon the other party, whether we are aiming to deal with 
strict honesty and uprightness. How would an habitual 
sense of God on the mind, secure us from swerving to the 
right hand or the left in these transactions ! Have we prom- 
ised to execute a piece of work for an employer, were we to 
set God before us, and maintain an habitual impression of what 
he is in himself and what lie is to us, how scrupulously care- 
ful would we be that we devoted to our employer's service all 
the time and labor for which he pays us, and that our conduct 
should be exactly that which in a change of circumstances we 
would wish from him ! Are we cultivating our farm, or sell- 
ing our articles in the market — are we employed in the me- 
chanical arts — are w T e serving one for wages by daily labor — 

5 



66 THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OP GOD. 

are we managing the concerns of others or of our country by 
agencies or by commission — how effectual to a right and faith- 
ful discharge of our duties would be an habitual regard to a 
present God ! What motives would then press on the mind 
from the character of God and those relations which he sus- 
tains to us ! and how would those innumerable departures 
from duty, which we so constantly meet in these departments 
of human life, be prevented, and succeeded by the strictness of 
honesty, truth and justice ! Throughout the various commer- 
cial, agricultural, mechanical world God would be present. In 
all these doings of men, God would be felt to be with them ; 
and who would sin in the very face of his Maker and his 
Judge ! 

2. The advantages of setting the Lord always before us may 
be seen in some of the more unimportant and ordinary occur- 
rences of life. It is not merely under the severer dispensa- 
tions of divine providence — not merely under the great and 
striking occurrences of life that we are the subjects of duty. 
Our life is made up of unimportant circumstances rather than 
of great events. These are designed to answer the purposes of 
our discipline, as they are quite sufficient, for the most part, to 
exercise the Christian temper and affections. But it is in this 
part of our trial on earth, that we chiefly fail. Great events 
arrest our thoughts, and force us to think of God and of duty. 
But how many, how innumerable are those to which we attach 
so trivial an importance, as scarcely to imagine that any duty 
is connected with them, or that they bring with them any re- 
sponsibilities ! The imperfections and disagreeableness of those 
around us, the perverseness of those with whom we transact 
business, the fretfulness and indiscretions and noisy disturb- 
ance of children, the interruptions which break in on our 
favorite engagements, an importunate application, a disquali- 
fying but not severe illness, a letter important to another but 
not to us, break in upon our plans and try our temper. Or 
perhaps we place a high value on our leisure — our religious 
leisure or opportunities — on the duties of retired devotion or 



THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 67 

social worship, and say with cheerful anticipation it is good 
for ns to be there ; but the duties of the family, or the indis- 
pensable calls of business, defeat our schemes. Or perhaps 
we actually partake of these enjoyments. The divine vision is 
withdrawn, and we are compelled to come down from the 
mount. Under these and a thousand like occurrences of life, 
how little do we feel that we are creatures of duty — how com- 
mon is it to regard a measure of fretfulness and discontent as 
lawful, and to yield to a state of feeling that is as really offen- 
sive to God, as the outbreakings of murmuring rebellion ! 
And in this way how great a portion of life is filled up with 
overt sins against God ! What is the remedy ? Set the 
Lord always before you. It is he who directs these inferior 
trials no less than those which are more severe. Constantly 
then, trace his hand even in the little disappointments and 
hourly vexations which occur in the most prosperous state. 
God reigns alike in the fall of a sparrow and in the revolutions 
of systems ; and a perpetual conquest over impatience, and 
ill-temper, and self-will, is the service to which he calls us in 
every condition. To feel this, by habitual regard of him as 
the omnipresent reigning God, is the ample and the only 
security that we shall not habitually be turned from the path 
of duty. 

3. The man who sets the Lord always before him will not 
be moved by temptation. Every one acquainted with the 
nature of the human mind knows that its power to repel 
temptation depends chiefly on its habitual state and govern- 
ing aim. It is equally plain that that state of mind which 
brings it under the greatest force of divine truth must be the 
most powerful and controlling. Here is the advantage of set- 
ting the Lord always before us. It guards the heart alike 
against the seductions of the world and the allurements of the 
grand tempter, by bringing upon it the fullest measure of 
counteracting influence. Is there not enough in God, in his 
perfections, his law, his government, his favor, his covenant 
and his retributions to make the world seem little ? Can the 



68 THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OP GOD. 

mind that sees these realities in God be attracted and seduced 
by any temptation ? Can temptation of any kind, or in any 
shape, or with any promises, assail that mind without meeting 
a mighty and efficient counteraction in the manifested glories 
of God ? Nor is this all. Here is the grace, and the strength, 
and the sanctification, and the hopes, and the rewards of prom- 
ise. To set the Lord before us, therefore, consecrates the mind 
with the very presence of the Deity, and repels the tempter 
with discouragement from the sanctity of a temple so holy. 
The man who lives thus, enters as it were, beforehand into 
heaven itself. And will he defile the purity of heaven with 
the deeds of hell ? Will temptation triumph over him under 
the influence that there descends from the promised grace and 
unvailed glories of God ? Let him then, as it were, place him- 
self in this sanctuary. The thought of sin would be loathed 
as an unhallowed abomination, and all the assaults of earth 
and hell be impotent to seduce him from his allegiance to his 
God. 

4. He who sets the Lord always before him will be stead- 
fast in all holy obedience. Such a man is pre-eminently pre- 
pared for the duties of devotion. God is with him amid all 
the cares, and business, and bustle of the world. He thus 
maintains in lively exercise all those graces of humility, faith, 
and contrition that constitute the devout worshiper. His heart 
is ready. His sacrifice is prepared, and there is nothing to 
hinder his coming to the throne of the Eternal with adoration, 
and gratitude, and praise. He is also faithful in the discharge 
of his relative duties. He that fears not God, will not regard 
man. A heart penetrated with a sense of our relations to 
God, steadily fixed on the glory of his name, cannot but be 
warmed with those sympathies and affections which prompt 
to deeds of beneficence. He who, like his divine Master, is 
habitually devout and pious, like him also will go about doing 
good-; he will be a follower of his Saviour — an imitator of his 
God — the almoner of heaven's gifts to his fellow-men. 

The same influence will render him faithful in his own 



THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 69 

house. He will be self-governed. The cause and kingdom of 
God will claim his zeal and his efforts. With God before him, 
he will see that, for the purpose of advancing his kingdom he 
reigns. Here he will see the purposes of his grace and mercy 
are to be fulfilled — he will feel the authority of his commands, 
the encouragement of his promises, and enter into active fel- 
lowship with him. In a word, this sense of God will impart 
stability and perfection to his whole character. The mind 
that continually sees God in the character and relations he 
sustains — as the perfect God, the supreme Lawgiver, the con- 
tinued Benefactor, the Redeemer, Sanctifier and Judge of men, 
and thus derives from these relations their appropriate influ- 
ence, will hold its holy purpose to the end. So certain as 
causes produce their effects, there will be that firm resolution 
which will form the whole character — that magnanimity which 
will rise superior to the events of time — that fortitude which 
bears up under the pressure of affliction, and that holy heroism 
which, fearless and unmoved, follows the path of duty through 
difficulties, enemies, and dangers to the prize of our high call- 
ing in God. 

5. This habit of mind will prepare for all the scenes of life, 
for death and for heaven. In prosperity, the man will remem- 
ber that he owes his prosperity to God — that it is he who has 
crowned his industry and exertions with success, and filled his 
cup with blessing — that it is he who gives health, and friends, 
and children, and causes him to rejoice in his gifts. With this 
view of God, every blessing will be augmented by gratitude, 
will be held in subjection to the divine will, yielded cheer- 
fully to the divine call, and consecrated by a sacred devotion 
to the demands of duty and the glory of God. 

He is in adversity. His comforts are few — poverty and 
want assail him — sickness wastes his strength — the stroke of 
death takes away his beloved offspring, and kindred friends 
forsake or betray him, but he sets the Lord always before him. 
He sees that God, without whose permission no affliction over- 
takes him, who sends distress and sorrow as fatherly chastise- 



TO THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 

rnents, and he knows how to receive the trial as a lesson of 
faith, of submission, and of holiness. He sets God before him 
— that God who reigns to fulfill his own wise and holy designs 
— that God in whose government he can confide, and in whose 
promises he can trust. The image of God is before him, and 
he is encircled by the visible forms of his majesty and good- 
ness. Are his perfections inadequate to protect ? will his oath 
be violated ? God is his refuge and he has strong consolation. 
He stands on the rock of ages and sees, unmoved, the fury of 
the tempest, and the swelling of the billows that rage and dart 
harmless around him. 

He hears the summons of death; but to him, it is but the ex- 
pected call of God. True, nature is alarmed when the mys- 
terious union between the soul and body is to be broken. To 
have a name no more among the living, to pass into the 
dominion of the dead and have the worm for a companion 
and a sister, are events from which nature shudders and starts 
back. But even here, there is adequate support for him who 
sets the Lord always before him. His Lord and Kedeemer 
has the keys of death. He lay in the grave before him and 
hallowed it, for the repose of the just. Them that sleep in 
Jesus will God bring with him. He knows, then, whom to 
trust and what to expect. He knows that he whom he trusts 
has power over death and the grave, and will raise again his 
sleeping dust. He knows that he will be with him through 
the dark valley. Death is the entrance into the more im- 
mediate presence of that God whose presence is the object of 
his strongest aspirations. God is with him now, and his pres- 
ence sheds the luster of heaven around his bed of death. He 
partakes of the spirit of that world to which he is going, and 
with a face that looks to the heavens, departs for the bosom ot 
his God and Saviour. Why then be afraid to die? 

Is the judgment next? The Judge is his friend. He has 
nothing to fear from an appearance at his bar, for even to the 
majesty that occupies the throne he is not a stranger. God 
his Judge he has habitually set before him ; God his Judge 



THE HABITUAL KECOGNITION OF GOD. 71 

is God bis Saviour, and he goes fearless — yea, with the confi- 
dence of victorious hope, to hear his final sentence for eternity ; 
for he goes prepared for the service and joys of heaven. 
His preparation is, that he has habitually set God before him. 
In that world God is all and in all. This frame of sonl de- 
voted the whole man to the service of God here, and it must 
qualify for his service there. This found its highest joys in 
the visions of God by faith here — this must find its perfection 
of bliss in full and unclouded vision of God there. It is 
this frame of soul which animates all the activity of heaven — 
which wakes its raptures and all its songs of adoration and 
praise ; — it is this which presents the immortal spirit faultless 
in the eye of God, and qualifies it for fellowship with God and 
his Son, with saints and angels in their employments and their 
blessedness. 

If any are disposed to regard the duty of setting the Lord 
always before them as impracticable — rather as one that looks 
well in description, than one which is realized in actual life — 
we would confront their skepticism with what has been real- 
ized in fact. Amy Fowler,* whose death we deplore — or 
rather I might say, in whose death there is so much reason to 
rejoice — is our witness. And I appeal not to the case of a 
stranger. She was born here, and has lived in the midst of 
this people more than seventy years, and for about fifty years 
has been a professed follower of Jesus. I appeal not to the 
mere fact of a religious profession ; — I appeal to many — to all 
who knew her — and I ask, can you doubt that she maintained 
an habitual thoughtfulness of God? Did you ever know a 
human being in whom it was made more manifest that she 

* The students of Dr. Taylor will remember how often and how eloquently he 
would speak of " Old Amy" as understanding the gospel practically — more fully 
than any one whom he had ever seen. From this one example he would always 
enforce the truth, that but little intellectual power or cultivation is required to un- 
derstand the gospel, and to secure that blessedness which is described as being 
" filled with all the fullness of God." 

Amy Fowler was a colored woman, who was for fifty years a member of the 
first church in New Haven of which Dr. Taylor was the pastor. 



72 THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 

set the Lord always before her — that she entered into the 
reality of those relations in which God discovers himself to his 
people, and in which the state of mind evinced more decisively 
its results in peace, and hope, and love, and gratitude, and joy ? 
It is not indeed claimed that she possessed a cultivated and 
expanded mind ; it is not pretended that she instructed the 
understanding of her acquaintances, but seldom do we meet 
one whose conversation so warms the heart. It was not 
the light of intellect that attracted, it was the glow of 
holy affection that touched the heart with kindred emotion. 
And it was this that gave to her conversation a strong at- 
traction, and often brought the most cultivated minds to 
seek her society. There was a simplicity of faith which re- 
garded God in his testimony as meaning what he said, and 
relied on it accordingly. There was a fervency of spirit un- 
quenched by the chills and damps of the love of the world's 
good things. There was a spirit of gratitude, that overflowed 
in the holy and yet cheerful inquiry, What shall I render unto 
the Lord for all his kindness toward me ? There was a con- 
sciousness which almost cleared the whole deportment in the 
human eye from the spots of sin. There was a submission un- 
der the trials of life, and there was a confidence and a hope in 
God her Saviour at death, which took away the anguish and 
even the anxieties of death — a confidence in God which 
cheered and sustained and gladdened the soul by its own in- 
fluence ; it was a faith that did not stagger at the promise 
through unbelief, but took hold of it as the anchor of the soul, 
and triumphed in the visions of glory which were disclosed to 
the departing spirit. It is, then, my hearers, a practicable state 
of mind to set the Lord always before us ; and it is its blessed 
influence in life, and death, and glory eternal, which rewards 
its possessor. 

And now, my dear hearers, is there such a God as we have 
spoken of — is such his character — are such the relations he 
sustains toward every one of us — are such the practical bene- 
fits of setting God always before us ? If, indeed, it be so — if 



THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 73 

there be a God of infinite perfection — if in his attributes are 
combined all that is grand and awful, and lovely and glorious 
— if he be our Lawgiver and Sovereign for eternity — if he be 
our Maker, Preserver and Benefactor, our Eedeemer and Sanc- 
tifier, our covenant God, our final Judge and Rewarder — if in 
this character and these relations of God there be every thing 
of practical moral influence, to perfect man in character and 
happiness — if to set him always before us is to secure his pro- 
tection and friendship, according to our every want in time 
and for eternity, ought this God to be ever absent from our 
thoughts ? Is it safe, is it wise ever to forget him ? What 
real interest have we to promote by forgetting God ? What 
higher interest have we, than the perfection of our own immor- 
tal nature — what higher interest, than to maintain that habit- 
ual piety which secures to us the protection, the support and 
the friendship of the Almighty ? 

How then is it in fact? Do we set God habitually and 
practically before us ? Is it our honest aim that all our pur- 
poses and affections, our plans and our doings, shall be pre- 
cisely what a just sense of God on the mind would make them ? 
Do we actually find that the influence of having God always 
before us does tell in its proper results % Do we find that this 
influence is with us in our calling in the business of the world 
— with us alike under all the occurrences of life, whether 
trivial or important ? Do we find it in weakening and coun- 
teracting the power of temptation — in prompting a steadfast 
obedience, and fitting us for all the scenes of life, prosperous 
and adverse — for death, for judgment and for heaven ? Alas ! 
my brethren, though we may believe that we are not utter 
strangers to all this, we know and must confess that more of 
this influence from God is needed. Indeed, if we are Chris- 
tians, more is desirable. Let us, then, turn away from these 
scenes of materialism that surround and hinder the visions of 
faith. Let our views be so fixed on the majesty, the purity 
and the glory of a present God, and the relations between him 
and us, that we shall feel Jheir sanctifying energy. Let the 
Vol. I.— 4 



74: THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD. 

weight of these realities concerning God so lie on the mind 
that we shall never be able to escape the impression. In God 
tlvus before the mind, is every influence present that can adorn 
the character with the graces of holiness, and cause a well- 
spring of peace, and hope, and joy, and life immortal to rise in 
the soul. Let God, then, never be lost sight of. Let us so 
accustom ourselves to the contemplation, that when the vail 
of eternity shall be drawn, we shall hail with triumph the dis- 
tincter vision of all that is great, and awful, and glorious in 
God. 

One word to those from whose thoughts God is habitually 
excluded. There are those who are conscious that they do not 
thus set God before them. They know that none of the effects 
are found in their affections or conduct which would result 
from an habitual practical regard to a present God. They 
well know, that, busied as they are with other objects, devoted 
as they are to other pursuits, the inner man would be offended 
and annoyed by habitual thoughts of God, and that the Being 
who upholds them every moment is unregarded. They know 
that if they were to think of God according to his true charac- 
ter and his real requirements, they would think of him with 
impatience or disgust. Think then— oh ! think — how far you 
are from all that influence from God, which can sanctify and 
save the soul — how far you are from the protection and friend- 
ship of that God, whom you thus banish from your thoughts ! 
What will you think of him when he shall be revealed in the 
clear light of eternity ? If thoughts of God are unwelcome 
to you now, what will you think of God when forced to look 
upon him constantly and forever ? 



VI. 

THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 

(A SERMON FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.) 

Psalms iv. 6, 7. 

" There be many that say, Who will show us any good ? Lord, lift thou up the 
light of thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than 
in the time when their corn and their wine increased." 

In one respect all men are alike; all desire to be happy. 
But in their special desires, and in the objects on which they 
are fixed, there is that difference in men which decides their 
moral character and their eternal allotment. Whether a man 
be a child of God and an heir of all things, or a man of the 
world and under condemnation, depends on the nature of his 
prevailing and supreme desire for happiness. 

This difference among men is presented to our consideration 
in the text. " There be many that say, Who will show us any 
good V The multitude, with vague and indefinite desires, look 
to the world for happiness, and in whatever way the world 
can contribute to theii* enjoyment, it is the object of their de- 
sires. 

The inquiry also bespeaks inward dissatisfaction and per- 
plexity. u Who will show us any good ?" Hitherto we have 
found nothing to satisfy us. A life of experiment has told 
them that a worthless world cannot bless them, and still they 
prosecute the fruitless search. Amid a constant succession of 
disappointments, and with a full conviction of the vanity of 
the inquiry, they ask, with the same strength of desire, "Who 
will show us any good V 

Not such was the desire of the psalmist. His language, 
speaking in the name of the godly, is, " Lord, lift thou up the 



76 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOT. 

light of thy countenance npon us." He then appeals to his 
own experience, and declares, " Thou hast put gladness in my 
heart, more than in the time when their corn and their wine 
increased." His desires are specific. He needs not to inquire 
where the supreme good is to be found. He knows that it is 
to be found in the light of God's countenance — that all other 
sources of happiness are unsuited to the nature of the immortal 
spirit. On the light of God's countenance, therefore, his de- 
sires fix and center, as a source of happiness far superior to 
what worldly men know, or what the world can give. 

I propose to consider — • 

First, What we are to understand by the light of God's 
countenance; and, 

Second, Why the Christian desires it above all earthly good. 

1. The phrase, "the light of thy countenance," though 
highly figurative, is not the less obvious in its meaning. 
Light is in itself pleasant to the eyes, and still pleasanter as 
the medium of clear and distinct vision. The light of one's 
countenance denotes that peculiar aspect which bespeaks af- 
fection and favor ; not a countenance dull with indifference ; 
not a countenance darkened with frowns ; but one whose 
aspect is bright with smiles of friendship and love. 

By the light of God's countenance, then, we are to under- 
stand that clear and full manifestation of God to the soul, 
which assures it of an interest in his favor. 

That I may more fully explain this manifestation of God to 
the soul, and the assurance of his favor which it imparts, I 
would remark, that it does not consist in any bright vision of 
light to the bodily eye, nor in any vivid impression on the im- 
agination or fancy, nor in the communication from God of any 
truth or any fact not contained in the Scriptures. Such im- 
pressions and such communications are all superseded and 
terminated, by that full revelation which God has made in 
his written word. To suppose otherwise, is to suppose either 
that the revelation of God is not sufficient for its avowed 
end and design, or that God adopts in some, and these not un- 



THE SOUECE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 77 

frequent instances, a mode of communication with the soul 
which stamps his revelation with insufficiency and uselessness. 
Whatever peculiar or supernatural communications from God 
some may suppose themselves to have in dreams and visions, 
whether asleep or awake, they are dreams and visions, and 
they are nothing more. 

At the same time there is a manifestation of God to the soul 
of the Christian, which is not enjoyed by other men even with 
the Bible in their hands, nor always by the Christian himself. 
When he has it, though not one of his conceptions or emotions 
go by a single hair-breadth beyond the communications of the 
written word, he still lives, in an important sense, under a 
revelation to which all other men, and himself at other times, 
are strangers. Though he does not pass one step beyond the 
limits of the written revelation, yet he sees in a peculiar 
maimer what lies within these limits. He sees God, the great 
object of this revelation, in the light and radiance of reality. 

This manifestation of God, as unknown to other men and 
peculiar to the Christian, may be thus illustrated. Other men 
may read and understand what the Bible reveals concerning 
the attributes of God and his relations to men. They may 
speak of them consistently, reason about them conclusively, 
and admit them formally into their creed ; and yet with all 
this light and knowledge, many remain in utter darkness and 
blindness concerning God as a reality. The light that beams 
upon the senses of such a man, from the objects of sight, so 
completely overpowers the light which ought to beam on 
him from God, the object of faith, that to him there is no 
God. To him God is so lost behind these shadows of material 
things — so put away in darkness and distance, that he is as 
though he were not. Now, to rectify all this, it cannot be 
necessary for this purpose that any new truth be added to the 
written record. It will be enough, that every truth here re- 
vealed concerning God, comes home to the mind with its 
proper power and pressure. What if it were so ? What a 
God would be seen were the God of the Bible to be seen ! 



78 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 

What a peculiar manifestation would that be, by which God, 
as it were, should become visible to the mind in all his glories 
as an impressive reality ! This is the kind of manifestation of 
God, which the Christian has, when under the light of his 
countenance. 

Nor is this all. This manifestation of God is made to the 
Christian in the exercise of holy affections, and he is therefore 
assured of the divine favor through the promises. 

It is obvious that the mind of him whose affections fix with 
some just measure of strength on God, must have very differ- 
ent discoveries of God from any which are known to those who 
have no such affections. When the truths concerning God 
come home with effect on every conviction and feeling of the 
soul, the mind has and must have a clear and realizing view of 
what God is, which the world, while unmindful of God, knoweth 
not of. Such a mind is placed in a region of light, where the 
great object of faith is seen in the bright aspect of reality, and 
compared with such a manifestation of God, every other state 
of mind leaves it in utter darkness. The character of God 
may be described — the accuracy of the description may be ad- 
mitted to be just, but so long as it awakens no corresponding 
emotions, a dark cloud separates the soul from God, which 
hides the reality. The exercise of holy affections removes the 
cloud, and brings the soul into the very sanctuary of God's 
presence, and throws the bright coloring of reality over all that 
is within it. In proportion to the strength and intenseness of 
holy affections, the misgivings of doubt and fluctuations of 
faith vanish, and that God is, and that he is just that God 
which the Bible reveals, is a full reality to the mind, as the sun 
when the eye is opened on its splendors. 

Again, the assurance consequent on this manifestation of 
God to the soul, is through the medium of the divine promises. 
It is easy to see, that however full might be the discoveries of 
God to the soul, they would not necessarily bring with them 
any conviction of his friendship and favor. They might only 
bring God nearer as an object of terror. Since God, then, 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. ?9 

makes no direct personal assurances of his favor to individuals 
— since lie furnishes no warrant for any such assurance except 
in his written word, it is plain that such an assurance can have 
no warrant save the promises of God. On these the Christian 
relies. Whether God has promised — whether God is faithful, 
is not a matter of doubt to his mind. With the conscious ex- 
ercise, then, of those holy affections which bring God in dis- 
tinct vision before the soul, is associated the unwavering con- 
viction that he is one to whom God hath promised himself in 
the fullness of his mercy and grace. Is it, for example, the 
affection of love that glows in his heart toward God in this full 
manifestation to his soul, he knows it is that God of truth who 
hath said, a I love them that love me ;" and he dishonors him 
not by a doubt of his friendship. Is it the exercise of trust or 
confidence in God, he knows it is that God of truth, who has 
said, " They that trust in the Lord shall not be moved ;" and 
as the child under apprehension of danger no sooner feels the 
embrace of parental protection than every fear is hushed, so 
too the Christian throws himself into the arms of his God, and 
there feels that conscious safety which gives quietness and 
assurance forever. It is the embrace of his God, pledged to 
him by his eternal truth. 

Such is the import of the phrase, " The light of God's coun- 
tenance." It is a manifestation of God to the soul, not by 
dreams and visions, but in the exercise of holy affections. A 
manifestation of God which assures the soul of his friendship 
and love, not by direct personal communications of any kind, 
but through the medium of the divine promises. 

I proceed to show — 

II. Why the Christian desires the light of God's countenance 
above all earthly good. 

1. He thus values and desires it, as it removes a sense of 
guilt from the mind. The Christian has seen and felt what it 
is to deserve and to be exposed to the punishment of sin. 
"The fearful wrath of the Almighty will fall on me, if I die as 
I am, and I may die at any moment," is a thought which has 



80 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 

entered his mind, with its power to distress and to imbitter 
every earthly joy. In the sorrow which the world occasions, 
man may retire for consolation to the conscious rectitude of his 
own breast. But when the pangs of an accusing conscience 
are felt, the executioner is within. In the hostility and trials 
of human enemies, it may be some mitigation that they can 
only kill the body, and after that have nothing else that they 
can do. But now, God is seen as our enemy, " who is able to 
destroy both soul and body in hell." Every real interest — all 
that is worthy to be valued, is in awful hazard, and the tears 
wrung from us by outward calamities are pleasure, compared 
with the quakings of a heart under some just sense of its guilt 
and the inflexible justice of God. What can bring relief — 
what can hold back the arm of an incensed Deity, when raised 
to strike ? Yain is it to think of tranquillity to such a mind, 
till something shall remove this sense of guilt — till something 
shall alter the countenance of an angry God. True, it may be 
that even the Christian who has once felt this, may bring over 
his mind a measure of senseless stupidity ; he may surround 
himself with an air of mirth, and derive a species of alleviation 
from false imaginations of his security, even when known to 
be false. But in the midst even of merriment, his heart bleeds. 
Nothing can remove the burden of his sins — nothing still the 
shudderings of guilt. Or if we suppose the Christian cherish- 
ing only some occasional feeble hope of the divine favor, still 
the hours of doubt are hours not without painful forebodings. 
With a mind sensibly alive to the interests of eternity, that 
uncertainty that obliges him to say, perhaps heaven, perhaps 
hell is to be my portion, weighs on the soul with a measure of 
distress, with relief from which no earthly joy can compare. 
Perhaps in the case of every Christian there are seasons of 
darkness, when the number and enormity of his sins will be felt, 
and point him with full conviction to the avenging arm of a 
holy God. By such experience the Christian is led to estimate 
the value of the favor of God. And what is it from this place 
of terror and of darkness — darkness more terrible by the splen- 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY 81 

dors of divine justice which gleam on it, to come into the light 
of God's countenance ; to pass from beneath that cloud whence 
God looks out in the dark frown of vengeance, and to come 
under a full manifestation of God reconciled — under the light 
of that love which beams peace, and life, and joy on the soul — 
and to hear the accents of assuring mercy, " Be of good cheer, 
thy sins are forgiven thee !" Tell us, Christian ; for you have 
felt it — what peace and joy succeeded — tell us your triumph 
when, with clear discoveries of God, you rested on that oath 
of his, sealed by atoning blood, that he was your everlasting 
Friend. What in comparison had been a world and all it 
could give ? 

2. The Christian desires the light of God's countenance for 
its own inherent consolations. It is then that the Christian is 
in that state of feeling and affection which most approximates 
the perfection of his nature, and which has most of the happi- 
ness of heaven in it, of which he is ever the subject in this 
world. It is then he has an intimate access to God, a holy 
familiarity with him. We all know the difference between the 
cold and distant reserve which we feel in the presence of a 
stranger, compared with the unrestrained familiarity and un- 
disturbed quiet which we feel in the society of a confidential 
friend. So essential to our happiness is the latter state of mind, 
that to live, and to feel that we live, surrounded by strangers, 
would render life wretched and almost intolerable. The Chris- 
tian knows what it is to regard God as a stranger. By his own 
sins he often loses a sense of God's friendship. By the doubts 
and fears and suspicions of conscious guilt, God is placed at a 
distance. He dare not presume on that approach which known 
friendship would authorize. His neglected closet tells him this 
fact, and often in mourning and tears he estimates his loss. It 
is that painful loneliness which excludes from that happiness 
which his own experience will hold up continually before him. 
There have been seasons in which he has known the delight of 
peaceful confidential familiarity with his Maker ; when fearless 
and unrestrained he would approach him, and pour out all his 
4* 6 



82 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 

disquietudes into his bosom, assured of finding the heartfelt 
sympathy and ready assistance of his God. If then we so 
highly value the peaceful, quiet, and unchecked familiarity of 
earthly friendships, if without them, all the warmth and glow 
of our happiest emotions would be chilled and frozen, by 
making each a stranger to all, what must be the joy of that 
conscious friendship with the living God, which brings the 
soul into a peaceful, unchecked familiarity with him — to speak 
to God face to face as a man speaketh to his friend ; how 
ardent the desire of it in him whose past experience tells him 
its consolations! 

This state of mind implies the serenity of unreserved confi- 
dence. There is, in the very nature of confidence in another 
who is able to protect and bless us, a serenity of mind which 
nothing can disturb, a stability of soul which nothing can agi- 
tate. Our confidence must falter before the soul can tremble. 
Did we never see this power of confidence in the child, when 
his fears and agitations were allayed, and tears changed for all 
sportive glee, by the assurances of parental protection? Thus 
it is, when the Christian confides in God, that his soul returns to 
its rest. It is confidence in God, under a full manifestation of 
God. And though he knows what it is to be without it, and to 
be racked by the tossings of uncertainty and fears, he yet knows 
how to value it, by at least some short intervals of that quiet- 
ness of spirit which it affords. He knows what it is by prayer, 
by meditation, by self-consecration, and other exercises of devo- 
tion, to come near to God, even to his seat ; what it is for him 
to break forth on the soul with a clear manifestation of the per- 
fections of his Godhead, and to impart to it a serenity " mild as 
the zephyr and more rapturous than song." What care, what 
fear, what inquietude can intrude into that breast which has 
within it that consciousness of safety which such intercourse 
with God affords — the same security to his interests which there 
is to the interests of the Infinite Being himself; what tempests 
of earth can agitate the soul that has an anchor thus cast within 
the veil, thus fastened to the throne of God ? 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 83 

Again, in this state there is a peculiar manifestation of God's 
love to the Christian. We cannot love another without the 
strongest desires of a reciprocal affection from the beloved ob- 
ject. How miserable should we be to know that the tender 
affections which we give to others are answered by no return 
of regard ; that not a being around us, not even one of those 
whose welfare we are eager to promote, and whose sorrows we 
feel as our own, has any more feeling for us than for the inani- 
mate objects which they see, and pass without a wish to see 
them again! The same principle holds with respect to the 
Christian. He loves his God, and though his love may be too 
feeble to furnish decisive evidence of its genuineness, it is sel- 
dom so feeble as to render him indifferent to the reciprocal love 
of God. To know that he was regarded by him with indiffer- 
ence would render him an exile from the universe, and shut up 
against him the only fountain of good, from which must pro- 
ceed every stream. While the Christian has in some degree 
known and felt all this, he has also been, during some longer 
and shorter intervals, under such discoveries of God's love as 
are enough to tell him its value. He has so felt it as to find 
his heart warmed with its consolations, as to find it breathing 
into the soul so much of the inspirations of heaven, such a 
peace, such a joy, such a holiness, such a superiority to earth, 
such a devotedness to God in return, such a thousand all-suffi- 
cient consolations, as to sink all earthly good into comparative 
annihilation. And oh ! — 'tis the language of his fervent aspira- 
tions — oh ! that this heart could so dissolve in love and flow out 
to him, as to meet that rich tide of affection rolling back from 
God on the soul, and bringing with it its own unutterable joys ! 
Do any say that all this is but a fiction of the imagination ? 
Ask the experience of Scripture saints, of the noble army of 
confessors and martyrs, or appeal even to the humblest, the 
weakest believer who has felt that hope in God which maketh 
not ashamed — who has maintained a devout intercourse with 
God by daily communion in his closet and hourly thoughts di- 
rected to his heavenly Father — ask him if his own experience 



84 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 

does not prompt these desires for the light of God's counte- 
nance; ask him if it has not brought the fullest conviction 
to his mind of the practicability of an intercourse with God, 
which shall cause the love of God to beam on the soul in all 
the assurance of its reality, and all the riches of its consolation ? 
In this state of mind, also, there is between the soul and God 
a delightful fellowship of affection and of interests. Could we 
suppose two bound together in the relation of friends, so far as 
mutual complacency in each other's character would form a 
bond of union, and yet separated by affections fixed on differ- 
ent objects, and by different and even clashing interests, how 
would the jar and the discord of such a friendship be felt — how 
would it want perfection ! Such is not the friendship felt to 
subsist by the soul between itself and God, when enjoying the 
light of his countenance. The supposition could not be real- 
ized in fact, and it is made only that we may see more distinctly 
the ingredients of the blessed relation. "While the soul fixes its 
strongest, purest affections on the divine character, and while 
the love of God comes home to its full and satisfying appre- 
hension, the soul also loves what God loves, and proposes 
those ends and no other than those which God proposes. The 
experience of every Christian tells him that there is no more 
unhappy and painful state of mind than that in which his will 
clashes with the will of God. It is not the trial, not the 
affliction which he feels ; it is the dissatisfied temper ; it is the 
inward controversy with the God that appoints it, that weighs 
down and crushes the soul. But from all this, when under 
the light of God's countenance, the soul is far removed. It is 
a transforming light, changing the soul into the same image 
from glory to glory. Now, every desire, every wish of its 
own, expires in the bosom of God — every interest, every plan, 
every hope is absorbed in the designs of God. Its own happi- 
ness and God's glory become identified. If it be the highest 
earthly gratification to accord with those we love in affections 
and interests — if the humblest effort is delightful when dic- 
tated by such an affection, it can be no mean delight to 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOT. 85 

cherish that submission and devotedness to the will of God 
which make us one with him ; that devotedness to his will 
and adoring joy in his designs ; that assimilation to his char- 
acter and union in emotion which are the very elements of 
heavenly happiness ; that oneness for which the Saviour prayed, 
" As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they may be 
one in us." Whatever may be the diversity in the experi- 
ence of Christians, there is not one who has not felt some of the 
smaller rays of this transforming light of God's countenance 
— felt enough to darken the luster of earthly joys, when com- 
pared with that vision of God which is the object of his desires, 
and transforms the soul into the likeness of God. 

3. The Christian desires the light of God's countenance, as 
it gives assurance of those future blessings which are the ob- 
jects of hope. Did the time permit, I might dwell on the 
sorrows and darkness which await the Christian in the future 
scenes of life — the many and powerful temptations to which 
he will be exposed, and which so constantly seduce the heart 
and mar his peace. I might refer to that heart within, always 
too cold, and often hard as a stone, and a source of constant 
grief- — the last enemy, the dark and lonely grave, the spirit's 
departure for the unchanging allotments of eternity — to the 
judgment, that place of solemnities and terror, where one con- 
scious of deserving hell is to be tried by a God of spotless 
purity and inflexible justice — on these evils in anticipation to 
the Christian — for such they are in most cases — I might dwell, 
and tell you of the peace, and the composure, and the triumph 
with which they are looked forward to by one under the light 
of God's countenance ; I might show you how this state of mind 
is adequate to banish grief and fear — to dissipate every cloud 
of sorrow, and cause, even in death and at the judgment-seat, 
the sunshine of heaven to dawn on the soul, and how for all 
this the Christian values the light of God's countenance. But 
I will only briefly refer to the assurance it gives of deliverance 
from sin and of future glory. It is sin which to the Christian 
is the cause of his deepest sighs, and his most alarming fears. 



86 THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOT. 

It is this which he deems his greatest calamity ; it this which 
makes him an object of self-abhorrence. How cheering, how 
delightful, then, is the assured anticipation of deliverance ! 
How must he long to escape from this prison of doubt, and 
fear, and self-defilement, and self-deformity, and to place him- 
self in anticipation before the throne of a spotless God, meet to 
stand there ! To be placed under those smiles of God which 
are the prelude to final redemption — free from every pollut- 
ing wish, every irregular affection, every unhallowed temper — 
from every doubt and every foreboding, and every tear which 
sin occasions — to live under that clear and attractive light 
of the glories of God, which gives the assurance of soon awak- 
ing in his perfect image, to glow with ceaseless love to him, 
and be a meet companion of his presence throughout his own 
immortality — to be able to fix, too, a steady eye on all the 
glories of that world of his hopes, and, filled with admiration 
and love, to say, "This glory is mine, and every moment brings 
me nearer, and brightens still the prospect" — oh, who does not 
long for this ! What cause of regret can remain, save that the 
next moment may be the moment of departure ? And what 
a duskiness does it spread over the trifling scenes of earthly 
joy ? Who would exchange its smallest ray for all the pleas- 
ures of time combined ? Ask the Christian who has seen and 
felt it. Yes, ask any Christian, for he has felt enough of it to 
know its value. Ask him whether there is not such a thing 
as an intercourse with God here on earth, which in no trifling 
sense lets down heaven into the soul, and causes it almost to 
emulate the joys of angels. He has answered, "Yes, I know 
it." Then ask him what earthly joy he would not resign for 
that manifestation of God, when he lifts the light of his coun- 
tenance upon him. 

REMARKS. 

1. We see why Christians so often mourn under the hidings 
of God's face. The fact is common ; the causes different. 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 87 

Sometimes it is owing to false and groundless expectation of 
the mode of obtaining the blessing. They are looking for 
some direct supernatural manifestations, consisting in some 
mental vision — some strong impressions of feeling — some per- 
sonal assurance, not through the channel of the written record. 

Others are continually looking for evidence of their safe 
estate, scrutinizing their past experience to find the proofs of 
their reconciliation, and their warrant for applying the prom- 
ises. I do not say that self-examination is not useful and is 
not necessary. But this is not the way to find the light of 
God's countenance, to be always looking for evidence instead 
of creating it. 

Others there are who refuse to see the nature of their own 
affections and exercises. Their fears of mistake and self-decep- 
tion guard the mind against any favorable conclusion, while not 
unfrequently there is an anxiety and an agitation of mind which 
renders it incapable of discerning the nature of its own emo- 
tions. Now all this is wrong — the certain means of darkness, 
doubts and fears — the fatal cause of separation between the 
soul even of the Christian and his God. Thus, he will go mourn 
ing all his days. The course must be changed. He must 
begin anew. That manifestation of God to the soul, which 
brings the evidence of his favor with it, is in the exercise of 
holy affections. Here, then, he must begin. He must come 
out into that field of manifestation where the truths concerning 
God — i. e. what God is — where the reality of a perfect God 
comes home to the soul. He must see and know so much of 
God in his perfect mercy and grace, and not to be afraid to 
trust that mercy, guilty as he is ; and so much of his justice 
and holiness, in the exercise of love, and confidence, and sub- 
mission, and devotedness. Let him do this, and the very do- 
ing of it, if it be blended with a belief of God's promises, will 
bring with it the assurance of God's love, and favor, and pro- 
tection in return. Do this, and God, in proportion to the 
strength of your affections, will be seen in the cloudless vision 
of reality, and the sight will pour all its joys upon the soul. 



88 THE SOURCE OP THE CHRISTIAN'S JOT. 

2. This subject addresses those who have been taught to 
value and desire the light of God's countenance above all things. 
Many there are, I trust, who can say this. If they have never 
had those manifestations of God which have given even for one 
moment the full assurance of his love, they have had those 
which have awakened some reasonable hope, some just persua- 
sion that it was so. If they have never come into the full 
brightness of this light, they have felt some of its fainter yet 
reviving rays, and this has been enough to awaken supreme 
desires for still clearer visions of God, and still stronger assu- 
rances of his love. Have any of you, then, desires like these ? 
Do you long for that clear vision of God, in the exercise of holy 
affections, which imparts to the soul that peace of God which 
passeth all understanding? Remember whence these de- 
sires have come. It is because "He who commanded the light 
to shine out of the darkness hath shined in vour hearts." Re- 
member, too, by whom these inestimable hopes and sustaining 
blessings were purchased for you : by that Jesus whose love 
ye commemorate to-day. Without his atonement, the fires 
of eternal justice had ever flamed around that throne of 
God before which you stand. Jesus' blood hath changed it 
into a throne of mercy, and that God whom you now venture 
to approach is God in Christ. Though sin's unchanging foe, 
he wears to you only the countenance of reconciliation and 
love. Come, then, boldly to his throne of grace and mercy. 
Come, expecting new manifestations of his love. By the exer- 
cise of lively faith and ardent love, bring God your Saviour 
here, and fearlessly, joyfully, look on him as your God and your 
Saviour. Then will he lift the light of his countenance upon 
you, and you shall say it is good to be here. Should seasons of 
doubt and darkness overtake you, still cherish these desires for 
this light of heaven — still watch and pray and labor for its con- 
solations, and even here ye shall find it sustaining and gladden- 
ing your spirit in its weary pilgrimage ; and soon the darkness 
shall be past — soon these glimpses of the light of God's love shall 
be changed into the full visions of eternal day. Him you shall 



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. 89 

see face to face, and in the full fruition of his gifts shall have 
the pledge of his friendship throughout your own immortality. 
But oh, ye who still value the world and its joys more than 
the love and favor of God, what are your prospects ? What 
is your portion ? What are your corn and oil and wine ? What 
is all this you covet ? What are all the joys which it can give ? 
Such as the animal creation knows as well as you. What have 
you done for that higher part of your nature — those capacities 
of the soul that qualify it to draw its happiness from friendship 
with God ? Oh, think what it is for such a being as you are 
freely, voluntarily, to qualify yourself for no higher pleasures 
than the polluted fountains of earth can afford ; what it is 
for a being made in God's image to forego God's friendship, to 
be an outcast from his love, to go away an exile, a friendless, 
forsaken orphan, to wander on and still onward through eter- 
nity, to meet no smile of love, receive no pledge of friendship — 
alone and unblessed, in that universe of which God is the Father ! 
Eternity, what a desert to thy soul ! But more : — soon your 
mirth and thoughtlessness, and all your gay dreams of earthly 
joy, will terminate, by a vision of God in the frowns of his ven- 
geance. In that dark cloud of his anger which hovers over 
you, his thunder sleeps, soon to burst upon you in one eternal 
tempest of wrath. Oh, how would you, then, love and value 
the friendship of thy God ! Make him, then, thy friend to- 
day. He waits to be reconciled. Come, give him the love of 
thy heart, and he will lift on thee the light of that countenance 
which is the pledge of his eternal friendship, and of all its joys. 
Take care of these interests; make sure of these joys now. 
Make the God of eternity and of all that blesses it, thy friend. 



vn. 



"THE ATOBSMENT A PLEDGE TO THE CHRISTIAN FOR 
EVERY REAL GOOD." 

Bomanb viii. 32. 

"He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not 
with him also freely give us all things ?" 

Never was a conclusion of deeper interest to the children 
of men — never was a conclusion sustained by such an argu- 
ment. The conclusion is, that God will freely give all things 
to his people ; the argument is, that he spared not his own 
Son, but delivered him up for them all — an argument which 
not only convinces the understanding, and bids defiance to 
doubt and unbelief, but at once summons the heart to its de- 
voutest gratitude, and awakens its sublimest hopes. 

The text needs no other explanation than what will natu- 
rally arise from the consideration of the grant which God here 
makes to his people, and the warrant by which the validity 
of the grant is supported. 

I. The grant which God makes to his people. Of this it 
were too little to say that it is liberal and large. What it 
contains is as truly beyond limit and beyond enumeration as 
are the wants and the interests of an immortal being. They 
comprise every thing in time and eternity, in earth and in 
heaven, which can in any degree affect the Christian's real in- 
terests. Thus the same apostle has unfolded the extent of this 
grant in a more particular enumeration. "All things are 
yours ; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 91 

•life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are 
yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." 

The objects of the grant, then, are those whom God, accord- 
ing to his eternal purpose, has sanctified by his grace, and 
brought into a state of reconciliation and favor. 

All things are not in their possession to be appropriated and 
used according to the erring dictates of their own independent 
judgment and wishes. This would often prove their ruin. 
They are theirs, for their good, and therefore in better hands 
than their own, even at the disposal of the infinite God, as he 
sees their interests to require. The Lord Jesus Christ did not 
submit to poverty to secure to his followers independent for- 
tunes ; he did not submit to hunger and thirst, that they 
might riot in luxury ; nor to shame, and reproach, and death, 
that they might be exalted to worldly honors and princely 
dignity. These, comparatively, are ciphers — things of no sig- 
nificance or value, except what delusion gives them. And as 
the gratifications of a mere worldly spirit, they deserve not 
the name of things in that inventory of blessings which infinite 
wisdom has made over to the Christian. They are only curses. 
The Christian, then, has no reason to complain of any defect 
in this grant, because carnal enjoyments are left out of it; no 
inducement to interline his charter, if he could, with such ad- 
ditions. All things are his, as they will subserve his best in- 
terests in time and eternity — God being both the Judge and 
the Director of all. If health, if riches, if honor will promote 
his real good, they are his. If sickness, if poverty, if obscurity 
or reproach will be good for him, they are his. Pardon to re- 
move his guilt — grace to aid him in the performance of duty — 
strength to sustain him under trials — fears and doubts and per- 
plexities enough to keep him watchful, and to prepare him to 
thank his deliverer, when he finds himself over the threshold 
of eternity, safe from hell — every needful supply for his tem- 
poral and spiritual well-being in time — immortal life and glory 
in the world to come. Thus every thing in God and in crea- 
tion — every thing in time and every thing in eternity — so far 



92 THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 

as the least value pertains to it, is the Christian's. Such is his 
heritage — such his all-sufficient portion. God and the created 
universe are his. 

II. Having thus considered the grant itself, let us examine 
the warrant which secures its validity. The apostle, to give 
weight to his conclusion, puts it in the form of a question. 
" How shall he not freely give us all things ?" It is impossi- 
ble that God should deny to the Christian the least real good. 
The assurance is absolute ; it is founded on the impossibility 
that God should do otherwise, and this impossibility results 
from the fact, that " he spared not his own Son, but delivered 
him up for us all." The atonement of the Son of God, then, 
furnishes absolute security that God will give to his chosen 
people all that their real interests demand. This will appear, 
if we consider — 

1. That the atonement in its ultimate design and end, was a 
provision for them. There is a sense, and no unimportant one, 
in which God gave his Son to die for all men. He is a propi- 
tiation for the sins of the whole world. The Lord Jesus died 
to make a complete provision for the pardon and salvation of 
all men as moral agents ; so that in this character the bless- 
ings might be offered to their acceptance, and so that nothing 
could hinder their acceptance but their own voluntary refusal 
of the offer. " God sent not his Son into the world to condemn 
the world, but that the world through him might be saved." 
But this was not the only nor the ultimate design of God in 
this work of mercy. Indeed, had he formed no other purpose, 
Christ had died in vain. Kich as had been the provision of 
mercy — free as had been the overture of it to guilty men — not 
one had accepted it. Merely to provide salvation for men, 
and to make the offer of it, would, we believe, have never 
brought the Son of God to die on the cross. We must look 
for some further and higher end. This is abundantly revealed, 
as we have seen from the context. This end is the actual res- 
toration of a part of mankind to the favor of God. !Now, every 
real Christian is reached by this design of the sacrifice of 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 93 

Christ. He is one of the called, according to God's purpose. 
That he might be a partaker of the great salvation — that he 
might be brought into a state of reconciliation with God, and 
become as really the object of his favor, as if he had never 
sinned, was the express and ultimate purpose for which God 
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up to die. Will 
this purpose fail of its accomplishment % Will the ultimate 
end for which God gave his own Son to die — that end without 
which he had died in vain — that end without which he had 
not died — will that end be lost? Will the grand object of 
God in this greatest miracle of his mercy be defeated ? The 
immutability of the infinite God answers that question. But 
let this purpose be fulfilled, and what real good can the Chris- 
tian want ? Let the end for which God delivered up his Son, 
in behalf of those for whom this mighty sacrifice was ulti- 
mately made, be answered — let the whole design be brought 
to pass in the way and by the means in which the infinitely 
perfect God accomplishes his designs, and what blessing is not 
secured to the Christian % What more could he ask than to be 
the object of such a purpose of God ? What more could God 
do for him than fully to accomplish it ? So sure, then, as the 
grand and ultimate purpose of God in giving his Son to die 
will be accomplished, so sure is the Christian of all real good, 
2. The atonement of Christ has taken away every obstacle to 
the fullest expression of the divine benevolence toward the be- 
liever. ]STow, there is nothing in the severer attributes of God's 
holiness and justice, nothing in the honor of his law, in the in- 
terests of his kingdom, nothing in the multitude of the believ- 
er's sins, nothing in the aggravations of his guilt, to obstruct 
the largest gifts of divine benevolence. At the same time God 
is love. Love is the essential perfection of the Godhead, and 
commands and directs all its energies. And now, when the 
benignity of the divine nature is free to fix upon the believer 
as its object, and to flow forth to him in its largest communi- 
cations of good, when it does, in its fullest intensity, actually 
fix upon him as its obj ect, what must be the result % Such is the 



94 THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 

relation to himself into which God, by the atonement of his 
Son, has brought every Christian. By it, on the one hand, 
there is nothing, absolutely nothing, in himself, in God, in the 
universe, to hinder the fullest exercise of mercy toward him ; 
by it, on the other, the benevolence of a God, like a sun, con- 
centrates its beams upon him. Such being the effect in behalf 
of believers of God's delivering up his Son for them, " how 
shall he not also with him freely give them all things ?" 

3. The argument derives additional force from the nature of 
the obstacles to the divine favor which the atonement has re- 
moved. The simple removal of these obstacles decisively 
evinces the kindness of God ; but the proof is augmented by 
the nature and the magnitude of the obstacles themselves. 
These are the truths of God, which are as great mountains, the 
holiness of God, which cannot look on sin, the justice of God, 
which is inexorable, though a rebellious world be plunged into 
deepest perdition ; these as they involve the glory of God, all 
his designs as a moral governor, and all the interests of his 
kingdom, beset the path of our return to his favor. And yet 
the mercy of God has found its way to our guilty world in cir- 
cumstances like these. The wisdom of God has discovered, 
and the benevolence of God has executed a plan, by which his 
truth — pledged to our destruction — can be vindicated; by 
which his justice, equally committed to execute the last jot 
and tittle of his law, can be sustained ; by which his holiness, 
which only moved to the frown of his indignation, may be con- 
verted into the smile of eternal favor; by which his law can 
be honored, all the principles and interests of his moral gov- 
ernment be upheld, yea, all his attributes be more impressively 
illustrated in the pardon of believing sinners than in their pun- 
ishment. Thus has the mercy of 'God forced its way to our 
guilty world through every barrier which the truth, the justice, 
the holiness, the law, the throne and the kingdom of God could 
interpose. There was nothing to hold it back from coming to 
a revolted world on the errand of our actual salvation, and in- 
stead of tarnishing one of the attributes of God, it has shed a 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 95 

richer glory on them all. Mercy triumphs over the brighten- 
ing splendors of every other attribute in the eternal redemp- 
tion of believers. Such are the wonders of the mercy of God ; 
and who or what shall now limit its gifts towards those for whom, 
in the highest sense, it has done all this ? If God, by not sparing 
his own Son, but by delivering him up for his people, has 
changed, in its actual operation upon them, the whole admin- 
istration of his moral government ; if he has changed that 
throne which, according to the principles of eternal righteous- 
ness, had stood forever a throne of wrath, into a throne of 
grace — changed in their actual influence upon the people the 
very attributes of his nature, and thus, instead of guarding 
against them the sanctuary of his presence by all the jealous- 
ies of his Godhead, has opened to them the largest embrace of 
his love and friendship — if God has done all this for his peo- 
ple by giving his Son to die for them, how shall he not with 
him give them all things 1 

4. The strength of the argument is increased by the charac- 
ter of those for whom God delivered up his Son. " Herein 
is love ; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent 
his Son to be a propitiation for our sins." u Scarcely for a 
righteous man will one die ; yet, peradventure, for a good man 
some would even dare to die." " But God commended his 
love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died 
for us." This fact, momentous and affecting as it is, is so fa- 
miliar to us that it is hardly possible to derive from it its due 
impression. In estimating the kindness of a benefactor, one 
method, and a just one, is to recur to the magnitude of his gifts. 
But rich and abundant as the gifts may be, if there is in the 
relation or the character of their object a fitness to receive 
them, there is sufficient cause for gratitude, but none for admi- 
ration. The constant gifts of parental kindness may and ought 
to command returns of gratitude, but they awaken no surprise. 
The manifestations of God's kindness to the sinless beings 
around his throne justly call back their echoing songs of 
praise, and awaken their fearless confidence in him for every 



96 THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 

future blessing. But in all this what is there to compare with 
that love to sinners, to rebels, to the just objects of his eternal 
wrath, which gave his son to die for them ? What is there in 
the love of God to angels to evince the continuance of his gifts 
should they rebel against him ? What is there to show that 
his love will triumph over every cause for wrath, and that how- 
ever deserving they may be of his vengeance, he will still im- 
part to them the richest gifts of his love ? Nothing. Proof of 
such love to angels God has never given. Thus hath God loved 
sinful man, and as the proof of it has given his Son to die 
for him. " He commendeth his love toward us in that while 
we were sinners Christ died for us." When there was every 
cause in us why he should come out in wrath against us, every 
cause in us which there was in rebel angels why he should 
bind us as he did them in chains of darkness, then we re- 
ceived the highest proofs of his love. The very causes, and 
the only causes, which could check that love, have not checked 
it. All that reason could conclude, all that suspicion could 
devise, all that fear could forebode, as having power to close 
against us the fountains of divine love — all this has only served 
to draw forth its most abundant stream. All our guilt — our 
literal desert of hell — instead of drawing forth the thunders of 
the Almighty, and sinking us in the flames of his wrath, have 
only furnished the occasion for the triumph of his mercy. It 
was in view of this that angels sang with raptures of won- 
der and joy, " Glory to God in the highest !" Here is the 
love of God in meridian brightness and glory. With such 
a view of the love of God, given in the death of his Son, well 
may his redeemed people say, " How shall he not with him 
freely give us all things ?" 

5. The argument of the apostle derives its utmost force from 
the nature of the gift. " He spared not his own Son, but de- 
livered him up for us all." Two things are referred to ; tbe 
character of the sufferer,, and the sufferings he endured. It was 
not an angel. The highest created being is bound, to the ex- 
tent of his powers, to obey the law man had broken, and could 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 97 

do no service to supply the deficiencies of man. It was God's 
own Son, " the brightness of his glory, and the express image 
of his person." Angels are indeed called the sons of God ; 
" but to which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my 
Son, this day have I begotten thee?" To what angel, to what 
creature, to whom but to him who " thought it not robbery to 
be equal with God," said he, " Let all the angels of God worship 
him." Christ is styled the well-beloved Son of God — the only- 
begotten Son of God. Such was the person whom God sent 
to save us. And if the love of the giver is to be estimated by 
the value of the gift in the estimation of him who makes it, 
what shall we say when God has given his Son? The object 
is too vast, the gift too great, for the imagination to grasp it. 
To have given worlds and systems of worlds, had been a com- 
parative trifle. But he gave his Son. There, on that cross — 
the sun hides his face, the rocks rend, the earth trembles, dead 
men come out of their graves — there hangs, there dies, the 
Son of God — and there is nothing great beside. He spared 
him not. He would not abate one tear, one groan, one drop 
of blood, one circumstance of ignominy and pain, that was 
necessary to the work of expiating human guilt. He delivered 
him up. He delivered him up to poverty, to shame, to revil- 
ing, to persecution, to sorrow, to the agonies of death. He 
put the bitter cup to his lips, and held it there till he drank it 
to its lowest dregs. He said, "Awake, O sword, against my 
Shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow." He laid 
the full burden of wrath due to us on the head of the innocent 
sufferer, and witnessed all his bitterness and anguish and 
tears, when his soul was exceeding sorrowful even unto death 
— when he cried, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
me?" — when he bowed his head, said "It is finished," and 
gave up the ghost. Thus God's own Son — God's well-beloved 
Son, suffered from his Father's hand — suffered for us. Aud 
when God hath made such a gift, what blessing has he to give 
or the Christian to ask, too valuable for God to bestow ? The 
gift already conferred is infinitely more precious than aught 
Vol. I.— 5 7 



98 THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 

that remains to be given ; and whatever the Christian can 
want in time or eternity, how shall not God freely give him ? 

The ransom was paid down ; the fund of heaven, 
Heaven's inexhaustible, exhausted fund, 
Amazing and amazed, poured forth the price — 
All price beyond." 



REMARKS. 

1. "What strong ground is furnished to the Christian for 
habitual trust in God ? His every interest is safe. That point 
is settled. God has evinced — has proved beyond the mis- 
givings of fear, or of doubt — that he has fixed his love upon 
him. The very design for which Jesus died must fail — the 
very benevolence of his nature, fixed in fullest intensity upon 
its object, must cease to bless; — that love for him which ac- 
complished the mighty enterprise of opening the channel for 
its gifts through every obstacle — that love which did it for 
him when a sinner — an enemy, — which spared not God's own 
Son, but delivered him to bear the full burden of expiation for 
his guilt — that love must lose sight of its object, and refuse to 
bless, or the Christian's every interest for time and for eternity 
is as safe as the wisdom and power of God can make it. 

Have you, then, beloved brethren, evidence of your calling 
and election of God. Put your trust in him. All things are 
yours. Trust him in prosperity and in adversity ; trust him 
in sickness and in health ; — trust him under temptations and 
trials ; — trust him in the hour of darkness and under the power 
of indwelling sin ; — trust him when the guilt of sin and the 
condemning sentence of the law oppress and terrify your soul ; 
— trust him under the infirmities of your daily experience, the 
wandering of your thoughts, the coldness of your love and the 
feebleness of your desires ; — trust him under the assaults and 
wiles of the grand adversary of your souls ; — trust him when 
the world smiles and when it frowns ; — trust him when friends 
around you are kind; trust him when enemies reproach; — 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 99 

trust him when friends live and when they die ; — trust him 
in life; trust him in death; — trust him at the judgment-seat; 
— trust him as you pass the threshold of heaven. Here, in- 
deed, you may have perplexities and distresses ; here you may 
be unable to unravel the mysteries of Providence. You may 
wish things were different; you may be tempted to say, "These 
things are against me." But he who sees the end from the 
beginning chooses your inheritance for you. He will not in- 
dulge you to your ruin, but manage all for your good. Of all, 
he is the infallible Judge. Let us drop, then, every murmur 
and every anxiety, and remember the words on which he hath 
caused us to hope : " He that spared not his own Son, but 
delivered him up for us all, shall he not with him freely give 
us all things ?" 

2. Under what obligations are the people of God for grati- 
tude and love and obedience to him ? Trust him too much we 
cannot, but presume on his goodness we may. God loved us 
when we were yet enemies to him by wicked works, and de- 
served nothing but punishment at his hands. God loved us 
with an everlasting love. And oh ! how shall we estimate — 
how shall we feel — how express the extent of our obligation ! 
If we think what God is, and what we are — of the blessings 
bestowed, and the price by which they are obtained — what 
abundant cause do we find for songs, adoring gratitude and 
praise ! Here is indeed " a length and a breadth, a height 
and a depth." On earth we shall never understand it ; never 
till we read it in the light and feel it in the joys of eternity, 
shall we be able to comprehend this love of God or our obli- 
gations. To the blessed hope of these immortal joys he hath 
brought us. From despair, fear, hell, he hath redeemed us. 
He hath bought us with a price. Oh, how dear a price ! He 
gave his Son for us. The Son gave himself for us, that he 
might redeem us from all iniquity. Let us not defeat this pur- 
pose of infinite love. Oh, let us not name Christ to dishonor 
him. Let us never bring on him the reproach of calling him 
" Lord, Lord, and doing not the things which he says." Let 



100 THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 

the life we now live in the flesh be lived by faith in the Son of 
God, who loved us, and gave himself for us. 

3. Let me ask those of my audience who have no interest 
in a Saviour's love, are you quite satisfied with your portion ? 
Are you not already weary with a world that affords you little 
but vanity and vexation of spirit ? Would you not have an 
inheritance with them that are sanctified by faith in Christ 
Jesus ? Are you not willing that the infinite God should pro- 
vide for you — that he in his infinite wisdom and goodness 
should mark out your portion ? Are you not willing that the 
God who gave his Son to die for you should become responsi- 
ble for your interests — that all things in time and eternity 
should be yours ? Come, then, to the Saviour of sinners. For 
you, too, God gave his Son to die. " God so loved the world 
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." 

And can you not trust him ? Come, sinner, you are wretched, 
and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. You have 
nothing of real value. You have nothing in all the blessings 
of earth and time, continuing as you are, but ultimate curses. 
You have no support under affliction — no peace under the re- 
proofs of a guilty conscience — no hope, no comfort in the hour 
of death — no prospect but that of damnation at the judgment- 
seat; and thus poor, forlorn and wretched, the eternal God 
offers you all that God can give ! And, fellow-sinner, will 
you not take it ? 

" Dost thou feel these arguments ? 
Or is there naught but vengeance can be felt ?" 

4. How unparalleled, how resistless it would seem, is the 
love of God ! His love to sinners is the love which spared not 
his own Son, and with him is ready to give all things to the 
returning penitent. Had you, fellow-sinner, become a way- 
ward, ruined prodigal from your father's house — had he, in 
the yearnings of parental love pursued you on your way to 
ruin — had he done all, by sacrifices, by entreaties, proffers, 



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC. 1Q1 

commands and tears — all which a father's broken heart could 
do — had he watched you with an ever-wakeful eye, adminis- 
tered to your every want, in all your guilt and miseries, with 
his hand of unchecked bounty — could no requitals, however 
base on your part, no abuse, no provocations abate his love or 
check his solicitude to recover you to his abode of peace and 
your home of joy — oh, could you, would you resist him? 
Would you still resist and wring his heart with the anguish of 
despair over the lost object of his love ? But you have such a 
Father, and this Father is God. 



VIII. 

THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 

Ltjke xvii. 5. 
" And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith." 

Faith is the grand cardinal principle of the Christian life. 
Imperfection in this principle was not peculiar to the apostles 
of our Lord, nor can such imperfection fail to render the in- 
crease of the principle desirable to all real Christians in every 
age. 

Let us, then, consider — 

First, The nature of faith ; 

Second, The means of its increase ; 

Third, The desirableness of its increase. 

I. Faith is an influential belief in the testimony of God. 
All the truths which constitute the gospel are either directly 
or indirectly practical truths, designed either to guide man by 
precept or to influence him by motives. With this view of 
the truths which God testifies to us in his word, it will be easy 
to ascertain the nature of true faith. This may be done by 
comparing speculative faith in practical truths, with that 
which is influential. Mere speculative faith in a practical 
truth leaves the heart either indifferent or opposed to that 
truth. An influential belief necessarily implies in all cases 
the absence of all indifference and hostility to the truth which 
is its object, and also a state of heart or moral sensibility 
which is adapted to receive its appropriate influence. For ex- 
ample, the man by long habit addicted to intemperate drink- 
ing, speculatively believes that his conduct is ruinous both to 
his own present happiness and to that of his family ; yet his 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 103 

fondness for strong drink is greater than his attachment to 
that happiness which his conduct destroys. This creates aver- 
sion and resistance to the truth which he speculatively believes, 
and thus, with his eyes open on the ruin which he brings upon 
himself and his family, he goes on in his iniquity. Another 
believing the same truth, yet having either a less attachment 
to strong drink, and more sensibility to that truth which dis- 
closes the consequences of intemperance, yields to the influ- 
ence of that truth. Again, suppose a man to be informed by 
credible testimony that his house is on fire, and his family and 
substance exposed to the fury of the flames. !Now, if you will 
imagine him on the one hand to be so degraded by vice, so 
devoted to some sensual indulgence, as to be dead to natural 
affection, and to all the practical influence of the truth testi- 
fied, you will easily perceive that he may speculatively believe 
the fact, and yet not make an effort to extinguish the burning. 
On the other hand, if he have those sensibilities which are 
common to humanity, the truth testified will be so regarded as 
to wake all his energies to action. In the one case there would 
be merely a speculative, in the other an influential faith. 

Now, between this influential faith and the faith of the 
gospel there is an exact similarity. "What the faith of a man 
possessed of the ordinary sensibilities of our nature, in the tes- 
tified truth that his house is on fire, is to that truth, as affect- 
ing conduct, so is the faith of the gospel to the truths pre- 
sented by the testimony of God. It is that strong, feeling 
perception of them as realities, which secures to them their 
true influence on the believer, and thus becomes what the 
apostle terms it — " the substance of things hoped for ; the evi- 
dence of things not seen." 

It is easy to see what the character must be, formed by the 
power of such a principle. Holiness, perfect holiness in man, 
in all its peace and hopes and joys, is nothing more nor less 
than the truths of the gospel carried into effect by faith. Let 
there be the impress of the gospel on the heart and life, and 
what dignity and perfection of character — what noble superi- 



104: THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 

ority to the vanities of the world — what lofty conceptions of 
God and the things of a future world — what a resemblance to 
the Son of God would be furnished by such a man ! 
Such is the nature of faith. I proposed to consider — 
II. The means of its existence. The text leads us to men- 
tion — 

1. Prayer. That prayer is one indispensable means of the 
increase of faith is unequivocally taught by the example in the 
text. Prayer not only brings the soul under the grace of God ; 
it not only, according to God's appointed method, brings the 
Holy Spirit into the soul, with that light, and strength, and 
purity, which flow from his sacred inspiration ; it brings the 
soul, also, under the very eye, and into the very presence of 
God. The suppliant at God's throne is surrounded by divine 
realities. Nor is there a spot on earth where the tendencies of 
the heart to depart from God are more effectually counteracted, 
and where the soul comes in more direct contact with the ob- 
jects of faith, than the closet. Prayer directly leads to the 
mortifying of unbelief in its very root and element, by open- 
ing a direct intercourse with heaven. Men may be unbeliev- 
ing anywhere else, but in fervent supplication before the 
mercy-seat they do and must believe that there is a God, and 
feel that they are standing "in a temple resounding with awful 
voices, and filled with holy inspirations." It is by shunning 
this sacred spot that the world gains such an ascendency. It 
is from the neglect of this duty of secret prayer, more than from 
any other single cause, that arises the low, and feeble, and in- 
operative faith of multitudes. Their faith is the faith of educa- 
tion — a faith which they might have though there were not a 
single truth in the Bible — or it is the faith of fashion, of sys- 
tems of philosophy — or any thing rather than the faith of the 
closet, the faith which results, as it were, from the direct contact 
of the mind with the things of an unseen and spiritual world. 

2. Our faith may be increased by examining the evidence 
of divine truth. In all his demands God deals with us as intel- 
ligent beings, and instead of requiring faith without or against 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 105 

evidence, lie requires it only in view of evidence. It is not, 
indeed, always true that faith ever bears an exact proportion 
to the degree of evidence perceived. A perverse heart can 
reject any degree of evidence. One Christian with less evi- 
dence presented to his mind, but with a higher measure of sanc- 
tification, may possess stronger faith than another who sees 
more of such evidence, with a heart less holy. Still, as natu- 
ral causes tend to their effects, so an increase of evidence is 
allied to an increase of faith. On this principle it is, that God, 
in his works, has multiplied around us the proofs of his being 
and perfections ; and in proportion as we examine these traces 
of his eternal power and Godhead, will our faith increase in 
the reality of his being and his presence. On the same prin- 
ciple it is, that so much of the inspired volume is occupied, 
not in presenting directly either doctrinal or practical truth, 
but the evidence of that truth. It is not merely to pro- 
duce the conviction, once for all, that the Bible is true, but to 
revive and enlarge our views of that evidence, and thus to con- 
firm and increase our faith. The effect is in perfect accord- 
ance with the natural operations of the mind. What Christian 
could, as an eye-witness, survey the works and wonders which 
God has wrought in attestation of this holy book, and not find 
his faith strengthened ? Let him, with this well-authenticated 
history of these facts in his hand, revert to their actual occur- 
rence. Let him thus go back, for example, to the scenes of the 
Saviour's life and death ; let him witness the blind restored to 
sight by his word ; let him hear the dumb speak ; let him see 
the lame walk, and the dead arise ; let him go to the foot of 
the cross ; let him follow his Saviour to the tomb ; let him see 
the angel descend and roll away the stone from the door of the 
sepulcher ; let him see the Son of God rise from the dead ; let 
him, as it were, eat, and drink, and talk with him ; let him, 
like Thomas, thrust his hand into his pierced side, and like that 
disciple, he will be no longer faithless, but believing, and, like 
him, in the language of wonder and love, he will exclaim, " My 
Lord and my God I" 
5* 



106 THE INCREASE OF EAITH. 

3. To the same end we must cherish a deep and an abiding 
sense of the mean and degrading nature of earthly things. 
One grand reason why the faith of men is so weak and inoper- 
ative is that the mind is so much occupied with the objects of 
time and sense. These so engross the thoughts and sensibili- 
ties of the soul, that the objects of faith have no influence, or, 
at most, that which is feeble and fluctuating. The only 
remedy is in the correction of these views of the world. We 
must see and must feel how low and fading are these objecs ; 
how poor and transitory are all earthly things ; how vain the 
fairest prospects ; how false the most glittering hopes. "Would 
we carry about with us a continually just estimate of what man 
is, as a being created, at first, in the image of God, and destined 
to eternity — rescued from condemnation to endless death by 
the stupendous mercy of God — called by the gospel to seek for 
glory, and honor, and immortality — capable of contemplating, 
resembling, and enjoying God — how childish, how trifling 
would appear the pursuits of men — how degraded the charac- 
ter of him who is sunk in the love of wealth and pleasure and 
honor — how forgetful of his first duties, and of the high desti- 
nation from his God ! Such views would teach us to rise above 
the trifling temporary scene around us ; for we should look 
for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is 
God. We should acquire an increasing practical impression 
of the unsatisfactory and inferior nature of worldly objects ; 
we should readily drop them from our grasp, that we might 
lay hold on things which are not seen and are eternal. 

4. Closely connected with this subject is the kindred one of 
keeping death and eternity continually in view. Certain it is 
that this world is never overcome but by intent meditation on 
another ; nor shall we think much of another while we regard 
its realities as confused and lost in an uncertain and distant 
futurity. But let death be brought near to our minds — let us 
carry about with us an habitual sense of the frailty of these 
tabernacles of clay, and of our exposure to drop every moment 
into the grave — let the realities of an eternal world break in 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 107 

fully upon us, and how should we learn to despise the turbid 
and transient pleasures of this world, for the pure and unfading 
glories of eternity. If, then, we would increase our faith, 
death and judgment and heaven must be much in our thoughts. 
We must especially bring near to our hearts the purity and 
bliss of the saints above. We must aim at the love, and peace, 
and joy which constitute their happiness, and pant after more 
of that life of God in the soul, which we hope to possess per- 
fectly in his presence hereafter. Such anticipations of death 
— such near visions of heaven — such aspirations after its light 
and its holiness — such foretastes of its employments and de- 
lights, will not only mortify our hearts to the world, but will 
invest the future scenes of hope with the asjoect of reality. 
Our faith would grow so strong as to make us feel that our 
residence on earth is a pilgrimage, and quite absorb us in the 
greater work and greater prospects of eternity. We should 
feel as beings surrounded by the un vailed objects of a spiritual 
world, and endure as seeing him who is invisible. 

5. Another means of increasing faith is its repeated exercise, 
in retirement and meditation, as well as in the business of life. 
Every natural faculty, and every moral principle of the soul, 
is strengthened by exercise. The power of evil habits is uni- 
versally acknowledged as adequate to a fatal resistance of all 
moral influence to change. ]STot less powerful would be habit 
in a holy course, were it equally confirmed by exercise and 
indulgence, to resist the temptations to sin. "Nov is there any 
holy principle capable of more decisive confirmation by exer- 
cise, and of rising to a more absolute dominion in the soul, 
than faith. 

At the same time, man is a fallen creature, so quickly occu- 
pied with objects of sense, and so easily losing sight of his 
higher destination, that there is no safety but in a continued 
apprehension and vivid impression of eternal things. The 
stone forced up the mountain does no more certainly roll back 
when the impelling cause is removed, than the Christian sinks 
under the influence of worldly objects when faith languishes. 



108 THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 

Nor is the temptation ever intermitted. The world is about 
us, within us, on our right hand and on our left. The most 
vivid moral impressions, unless repeated and often repeated, 
will, like the morning dew, be brushed off by our necessary 
contact with the world, or exhaled by the sun of worldly pros- 
perity. Hence the absolute necessity of retirement and medi- 
tation, as well as constant watchfulness against the influence 
of worldly things. "We must retire from the world — we must 
resort to that sacred retreat where we shall be alone with 
God and the things of eternity. Daily should we look into 
this holy book, as revealing to us the things of another state 
of being. We must accustom ourselves to reflection and 
thought. We must bring before the mind the great realities 
which the revelation of God discloses, and arrest them and 
hold them to the eye of the mind and the sensibilities of the 
heart, and we must look, and still look, till the impression is 
felt — till the objects rise and swell to something of their real 
magnitude — till the effect becomes fixed and incorporated, and 
till we can go out amid sensible objects, and carry the holy 
and sanctifying influence of the things of another world along 
with us. Thus in the very business and bustle of life our 
thoughts would recur to the topics of retired meditation. Our 
worldly schemes and purposes would be formed and pursued 
under some just estimate of the comparative value of things 
temporal and things eternal. We should walk by faith. Un- 
seen realities would come so near as to occupy the field of 
vision ; the glare of worldly objects would fade away in the 
brighter splendors of heavenly things, and we should feel and 
act as living and moving amid the scenes of eternity. 

6. Important to the same end are just views of the truth 
and faithfulness of God. God has given to his people exceed- 
ing great and precious promises. The only ultimate founda- 
tion on which faith can rest in these promises, is the un- 
changeable truth of God. Especially when we consider how 
often the best men sin against him and forfeit his favor — how 
they multiply their provocations and dishonor their covenant, 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 109 

we sliall see that they need all the truth and faithfulness of 
God to sustain and invigorate their faith. The faithfulness of 
a creature would fail here. We need a firmer foundation, 
even the faithfulness of him who changeth not. Nor is there 
perhaps any single topic of contemplation better adapted to 
strengthen the faith of the children of God than the faithful- 
ness and truth of their heavenly Father. When they consider 
those attributes which raise him far above every temptation 
to deceive — that the very attributes which move God to prom- 
ise prompt the whole Deity to fulfill — that in every age and 
in all the circumstances of man he has been faithful without 
variableness or shadow of turning — that in his very nature, as 
the eternal, self-existent God, he changeth not — then they can 
repose in his declarations an unwavering faith. In proportion 
as they meditate on God, will this only foundation of their 
faith become firm, and they will feel that resting here they 
rest on the eternal Rock. Neither sins nor provocations will 
shake the basis of their hopes. The changes of earth and time 
may threaten to invade their peace, empires may rise and fall, 
friends may betray, or sicken and die, but, whatever else may 
change God is the same forever. Whoever else may be deaf, 
God will hear ; whoever else may deceive, God abideth faith- 
ful. By such views of God unbelief will be weakened and 
faith encouraged to anchor her hopes with unshaken confi- 
dence in his eternal covenant. 

I proceed — 

III. To consider the desirableness of increasing our faith. 
This appears from the character it gives, the consolations it 
imparts, and the glory for which it prepares. 

1. From the character it gives. All the defects and blem- 
ishes of Christian character may be traced to the want or the 
weakness of faith as their cause. It is through the imperfec- 
tion of this principle that the character of man is formed so 
much by the influence of objects that here surround him. 
Every man is what his object is. Nor can we well conceive 
of greater deformity and degradation of character than that of 



110 THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 

an intelligent and immortal being whose character is volun- 
tarily formed by the exclusive influence of the low and fleet- 
ing vanities that here solicit human pursuit. What prostra- 
tion of his faculties ! He was made in the image of his God. 
What frustration of the great end of his being! He was des- 
tined to eternal fellowship with God in character and blessed- 
ness. He retires from, or rather rejects all that moral influence 
which would render him a kindred spirit with angels, and 
sinks and grovels with the beasts that perish. Nor is the guilt 
and moral turpitude of such a character less conspicuous or 
less odious. What obligations to his Maker are slighted ; 
what contempt of the glorious designs of God in the erection 
of a moral kingdom and in the formation of man as its quali- 
fied subject and active instrument of Jehovah's glory; — and 
all this, too, in direct resistance to the overtures of grace 
and forgiveness through an incarnate Redeemer! To such 
degradation and guilt even the Christian in his present state is 
lamentably subject. How shall he be rescued? — what is the 
redeeming principle? Faith. The sum of all moral excel- 
lence in man is Christianity embodied in practical results by 
faith. The complete influence of this principle would form a 
character corresponding with the truths of God's revelation, as 
the image answers to the seal. It would give a substance and 
reality to eternal things which would annihilate the practical 
ascendency of temporal things. It would correct his wrong 
estimate of things and bring him under the exclusive power of 
every high and holy motive. God would be with him ; the 
portals of glory would be open before him; and thus sur- 
rounded by divine objects his heart would imbibe their influ- 
ence, and he would feel and act as living and moving amid 
the scenes of the eternal world. He would be like Gocl, for 
he would feel and act under the same influence which awakens 
the affections and prompts the works of God. In such a 
character we should see an exemplification of the power 
of faith — we should see a living image of the Son of God, 
in all the moral beauty and majesty of one walking as 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. Ill 

Christ also walked. I need only ask, is such a character de- 
sirable ? 

2. From the consolations which faith imparts. It is not only 
the prerogative of faith that it adds to our peace and our joys 
in the prosperous scenes of life. Here, indeed, it moderates 
and directs, and governs our desires and expectations from the 
world — it gives serenity and contentment instead of the cor- 
roding cares and agitations of a worldly spirit — it gives to 
every blessing enjoyed the enhanced value of a gift from an 
eternal and an unfailing friend ; and awakens that gratitude, 
which, purified and invigorated, will hereafter pour the tide of 
ecstasy before the throne of God. But its power is still more 
triumphant in scenes of affliction and trial. To the eye of 
faith every event has a tendency and an aim. Nothing is 
accidental — nothing without a purpose. Amid all that is dark 
and dreary, in the storms and tempests of this world, the sun 
of the believer's hopes is still shining in his strength. Faith 
shows him his God in the mild majesty of his parental char- 
acter — 

" From seeming evil still educing good, 
And better thence again, and better still 
In infinite progression." 

Faith penetrates the unseen world ; and with heaven m 
view, with all its glories dawning on the sight, how must the 
light afflictions of a moment be lost when set in contrast with 
that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ! 

Eor do its consolations fail at the hour of death, or when 
the believer is called to judgment. Never indeed does he look 
at death without seriousness, nor forward to judgment without 
humility. Yet he often looks at both with composure, yea 
with triumph. By faith he is enabled to lean on his arm who 
has destroyed him that has the power of death, and to put 
away the tremblings of guilt. Faith sheds light on the dark- 
ness of the tomb, and looks to the morning of a glorious resur- 
rection. Faith brings eternal glories near, and discloses, in 
earnests and foretastes, the joys of heaven, and sees the dark 



112 THE INCREASE OE EAITH. 

valley opening into the paradise of God. Faitli rests its con- 
fidence on the atoning blood of Jesus, and on the threshold of 
eternity authorizes the triumphant shout — " O death, where is 
thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory V Faith appropriates 
the righteousness of him in whom there is no condemnation, 
and conducts fearless to^the judgment-seat. Faith, then, can 
welcome death, for it is sleep in Jesus — the rest of heaven. It 
can welcome the judgment too, for that is the day of the con- 
summation of its hopes, the day of eternal triumph, in which 
the believer will be seated on his throne above, to hold the 
palm of victory and to wear the crown of life. 

3. From the glory for which it prepares. Preparation for 
the glory that shall hereafter be revealed must be begun in this 
world. It must be begun in that character, which is the only 
true appropriate preparation for the services and joys of 
heaven. The happiness of heaven must result from the objects 
of heaven, and the capacities or fitness of the soul to derive 
happiness from those objects. If the character be formed here 
by the exclusive influence of the objects of sense, if all the 
desires and affections be confined to these, there can be nothing 
in the world of spirits to meet and satisfy a single desire of 
the soul. The character, then, must be formed by other ob- 
jects — the desires and affections of the soul must be fixed on 
things above' — it must thus become capable of heavenly joys, 
or in vain were it admitted into heaven itself. But it is by 
faith, and by faith only, that the influence of these divine and 
glorious realities can be felt in our present state. Without 
faith, the immortal spirit must be exclusively occupied and in- 
fluenced by objects of sense, and all its powers and capacities 
be contracted and shrivelled to the limits of those of the ani- 
mal creation. But by faith, we live as seeing things invisible. 
By faith, we extend our views beyond the material objects 
around us, and bring realities which lie beyond the organs of 
sense as realities no less present to mind. By faith, eternity 
links itself with time, and there is no chasm in our existence. 
The kingdom of God is within us. The same objects of affec- 



THE INCREASE OF EAITH. 113 

tion touch the heart, the same sources of joy pour their 
streams upon the soul, and the same character is formed — 
which are found in the residence of the blessed. Thus faith 
joins heaven to earth, and sings in this vale of tears the same 
song that love and gratitude and joy will sing before the 
throne of God and the Lamb. Faith beholds the order, the 
harmony, the happiness of the heavenly hosts, the person of 
the great Mediator, the glories of God, and the joys of his 
presence ; and thus that character of the believer, and those 
capacities of the soul are formed here on earth, which are its 
preparation for the purity and employments, and bliss of that 
world of light and glory. As his faith increases, his prepara- 
tion for heaven increases ; and he partakes here below, in en- 
larged measure, of that perfection and those joys which shall 
be completed when faith is lost in sight, and when we shall 
see as we are seen, and know even as we are known. 

And now, my brethren, do we not need an increase of faith ? 
Do the divine realities, disclosed to as by the revelation of 
God, have that moral influence upon us which they ought to 
have ? If heaven and hell, if God and Christ were regarded 
in some such manner as visible objects are regarded, would 
not Christians be better Christians ? Would it not give them 
a more holy elevation above the world, and impart a firmer 
reliance on the promises of God, and wake up a more decided 
spirit of devotedness to his service ? We can be at no loss for 
the answer. Let us, then, strive to cherish and strengthen 
this divinely-inspired principle. As the fruit of the Spirit, let 
it be our fervent prayer to him without whom " nothing is 
strong, nothing is holy," "Lord, increase our faith." Let 
us resort to every means of its increase, and give full scope to 
its operation. How exalted, how divine the character it would 
thus impart — what support and consolation it would bring to 
the laboring spirit in every struggle, even in death itself! 
What a radiance it would shed on our every path — what 
light it would shed on the dark valley — what triumph im- 
part even at the foot of the judgment-seat — what meetness 

8 



114 THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 

for fellowship with God and the Saviour, in the glories of his 
kingdom ! 

Let us then labor more, and pray more for increased power 
of faith. Let us give it that most full and comprehensive ex- 
ercise as it becomes redeemed sinners, even faith in the great 
atonement of the Son of God. In the contemplation of the 
cross of Christ, all the great truths of the gospel are presented to 
us. Here it is that the character of God in its brightest glories 
is unfolded — here it is that our own character and state also 
are presented, the evil of sin and its just condemnation — here, 
the matchless love of Jesus and the full purchase of his aton- 
ing death — here, the motives to holy obedience — here, the 
doom from which we hope to be delivered, and the joys to 
which we hope to be brought, are all placed before us in their 
clearest light and most impressive power. Here, then, let us 
give new vigor to our faith. Come and let us cast away our 
sins and our solicitude, and again trust the truth of the liviug 
God. To-day, let us believe the record which he hath given us 
of his Son — to-day, let us bring our souls under the influence 
of eternal realities. Let us look beyond the materialism that 
surrounds us. Let us give to faith the power which is her 
own — even to open the celestial gate — to pierce the vail that 
conceals the paradise of God, and to look in on its glories. 
Then wherever we are, in this or in other worlds, shall God, and 
Christ, and the things of heaven be with us and all around us 
— then shall we live under their holy, sanctifying power, and 
shall be pressing toward the mark for the prize of our high 
calling, and then, in a little while, receive the end of our faith, 
even the salvation of our souls. 

I ought not to conclude without calling these churches to 
that faith in their covenant God, which this season of revival 
demands. God is in the midst of us, by his Spirit. God is 
here, to accomplish the greatest of his exceeding great and 
unfulfilled promises to lost men. God is here, multiplying the 
trophies of his mercy and the heirs of eternal glory. God is 
here, with that sacred influence, that silent, pervading power 



THE INCREASE OF FAITH. 115 

of his Spirit, which alone reaches and softens and subdues the 
rebellious will of man, and restores to his soul God's image in 
righteousness and true holiness. God is here, to convert, to 
bless, to save, with an everlasting salvation, parents and chil- 
dren, husbands and wives, brothers, sisters, friends and neigh- 
bors. Souls dead in sin ! — oh, what death so strong ! — are 
made to live ! Oh for that faith in God which takes hold of 
God's counsels and God's promises ! Oh for that faith which 
shall give fellowship with a suffering, dying Saviour — faith 
which shall realize that the power of the Holy Ghost is on the 
minds of this community ! "Who is the Christian that will not 
believe it, and will not act as if he believed it ? Who, as it 
amid the scenes of an apostolic day, will not, with a true heart 
and a whole heart — will not now, enter into fellowship with 
the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost in the work of saving 
the souls of men ? "Who will stand back from this work at 
such a time, and so become a blot and disgrace to the cause 
he professes to espouse, and a judgment and a curse on the 
community in which he dwells ? 



IX. 

GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

Job xxxiv. 33. 
" Should it be according to thy mind?" 

When we consider that there is a God of infinite perfection 
at the head of the universe, extending his providence to every 
event, and making it the expression of his will, it seems to be 
the plainest of all truths that such creatures as we are, ought 
to be cheerfully subject to his disposal. When we reflect still 
farther, that he left not the world he made to perish in its own 
wilful apostasy, but purchased again his own creation by the 
blood of his Son, that he has taught us to regard this unspeak- 
able gift as the measure of his love aud the pledge of all 
things, and that he has revealed himself as a covenant — God 
giving security to this charter of blessings, not merely by the 
attributes of Godhead and the immutability of promise, but also 
by the confirmation of an oath — duty seems too cold a term to 
express the glad submission and grateful confidence due to 
this wise, and gracious, this insulted, and yet indulgent God. 

Time was, when submission to God on the part of man was 
not deemed grievous. In Eden, that happy residence of purity 
and love, neither marred by defilement of sin, nor darkened 
by the clouds of death, our first parents walked with their 
Maker in all that filial submission of unwavering confidence 
which a continual sense of his perfections and love inspired. 
The will of man and the will of his God were one. But man 
would be wiser than his Maker ; and vainly imagined that, in 
consulting his own will, higher satisfaction was to be found 
than in according with the holy will of a perfect God. In the 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 117 

same path of miserable adventure have gone, ever since, his 
blind and unhappy offspring. 

To be convinced of this truth, suppose instead of the course 
of disappointment and trial and sorrow which, in the provi- 
dence of God, is the appointed lot of man, they were permitted 
to choose for themselves — suppose the direction of events were 
to be so committed to them that every pang and sorrow, to 
which they are now liable, could be avoided, and every bless- 
ing and joy, which can be the object of their wishes, could 
be secured, how many would show any practical regard for 
the glory of God and their own spiritual good as connected 
with the present course of his providence 1 What evil has 
been endured by most men which they would not have pre- 
vented, if they could, even at such a sacrifice ? And with a 
prospect so bright as to be shaded by no cloud of calamity, 
how many, that it might be realized, would not be willing to 
take the government from the hands of God into their own, 
and rejoice to be at their own disposal? The consciousness of 
thousands answers that, in many cases, our will is better than 
GodJs, and, were we on the throne, it should be according to 
our mind. 

To develop this form of human selfishness, and to show 
how unbecoming it is in such a creature as man, let us con- 
sider it ; 

I. As highly presumptuous. Look at the lesson of expe- 
rience. In all their estimates, men are not merely liable to 
mistakes, but they constantly fall into them. What scheme 
of earthly happiness was ever fully realized ? The very events 
to which men are chiefly indebted for their happiness are not 
of their own contriving. The results of their own plans are 
brought about in a manner utterly unthought of, and in a 
course totally unlike any they would have adopted had they 
thought of it. Just when we have laid the plan of life, formed 
those friendships and ties, and begun to enjoy the circle in 
which we would wish to live and die, an unexpected stroke 
disappoints our hopes, and lays all our schemes in the dust. 



118 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

With whatever toil, and care, and wisdom we have reared the 
goodly structure — whatever security we may fondly imagine 
we have given it from every storm that blows, an unseen hand 
interposes and overturns it from the foundation. So univer- 
sally is this the experience of man, that as he advances in life, 
the lesson becomes more and more impressive ; he grows dis- 
trustful of himself, tired of weaving plots which a single cross 
accident may entangle, or which unravel of themselves, and 
end in nothing. It is, then, the testimony of experience, that 
we neither understand well how to choose events, nor how to 
control them. Is it not presumption palpable that refuses, 
under such lessons from our own experience, to resign our- 
selves cheerfully to the disposal of a beneficent God, for the 
sake of being the arbiters of our own destiny ? 

But the presumption is still more strikingly apparent, if we 
reflect on our own incompetence to govern. That we may 
direct wisely, or wish wisely, it is necessary to know the 
events in their connections, relations and results, both as they 
may affect our own interests and the greater interests of a 
world, and even . of the universe. But can we even look 
through time? Can we cast an eye over immensity and 
through eternity ? Do we know so much ; do we so approxi- 
mate omniscience that we can survey, with prophetic vision, 
the darkness of futurity, and unfold in luminous delineation 
the connections and results of even a single occurrence ? A 
providential event, afflicting to us, portending, according to 
our best means of judging, the sorest calamities, occurs. But 
what do we know of the reasons which have led to it, in the 
mind of him, who rules the universe? Whatever may be 
proper for us to do for the purpose of preventing beforehand 
certain probable, and in our view, calamitous events, what 
have we to do at explanation when they have come to pass ? 
Can we unfold the whole design ; can we be sure that what 
we regard as an end, is not merely the means, or what we 
suppose to be the whole, is only part ; that what we lament 
may be a blessing, and what we desire only a curse ; that 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 119 

what appears to be confusion and calamity may be the bright 
progress of order and joy; and that what appears to be the 
woes of Jehovah's wrath, may only be the prelude to the rich- 
est triumphs of his love ? It may be dark, mysterious, un- 
fathomable ! Does it therefore become us to object, to dictate? 
The providence may be deeply afflictive and grievous, but, 
Christian, thy God hath done it ; — should it be according to 
thy mind or his ? 

The presumption of this form of human selfishness is still 
more striking, when we reflect on our inability, by compari- 
son or contrast. The reasonableness of submission is, in the 
nature of things, proportional to the infirmities of him who is 
called on to submit and the competence of him who claims his 
submission. All agree that in early childhood, implicit sub- 
mission to parental government must be exacted. What, then, 
is man — and what is God? Man — how ignorant, how erring, 
how powerless, how depraved and perverse — a creature of 
yesterday, whose foundation is in the dust, who is crushed be- 
fore the moth, who knows nothing — a worm of the earth. 
Where is he ? In a dark spot in the creation, placed in a vale 
whose high surrounding mountains bound every prospect save 
only that of the heavens above him — this is the being who sets 
himself forth a candidate for Jehovah's dominion. What is 
God? He is the eternal, self-existent, independent Creator, of 
whom, and to whom, and through whom are all things. He 
is the Almighty. His understanding is infinite ; with him is 
light and no darkness at all. He it is whom heaven and the 
heaven of heavens cannot contain ; God is love, whose glory 
is above the heavens, the joy of angels, whose song makes all 
its pillars tremble as they sing, " Holy, holy, holy Lord God 
Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come ; blessing and 
honor to him that sitteth on the throne." This is the Being 
whom vain man would displace, that he might be his successor 
in empire ! Weak, erring, helpless man, leave dominion with 
thy God. What presumption in the thought that " it should 
be according to thy mind !" 



120 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

II. This desire, if accomplished, would be fatal to the highest 
and best interests. The glory of God, that full expression of 
his perfections in the highest good of the universe, what would 
become of that ? What an utter failure of that consummation 
of all things, were man to be the disposer of events ? To say 
nothing of his utter incompetence, it would be taking from the 
helm of the universe the benevolence of a God, and placing in 
its stead that selfish mind which is enmity against him. 

The effects would not be less fatal to the interests of any 
community. Yiew man in any social relation under the in- 
fluence of that individuality of interest which appropriates 
every thing to self. The power in one, would create all the 
horrors of tyranny. The privilege in all, would awaken all to 
war upon each other's peace and happiness without cessation. 
When would the rains of heaven descend? — when would the 
sun shine in his strength ? — when would wars cease ? — when 
would peace be perpetuated ? — when would any providential 
event, that is necessary to the subsistence of the world, take 
place, if the concurrent will of men were to be waited for ? 

It would be equally fatal to the individual interests of men. 
Who, with the privilege of choosing all things for himself, 
would not choose unwisely, through rashness and inconsidera- 
tion ; amid the embarrassments, and difficulties, and calamities 
connected with any course he might propose, who would be 
able to choose at all — who would have resolution to incur a 
present loss, or present pain, for future good — who would not 
be governed more by imaginary evils and wants than by his 
real interests ? How would men change their conditions ; the 
poor, their poverty for wealth ; the low, their obscurity for 
fame ; the busy, their ceaseless occupation for leisure ; in short, 
how would the burdens, the cares, the toils, the trials and pains 
of one condition prompt all to an eager exchange for another, 
and still each remain as dissatisfied as ever, and go on com- 
plaining as before? Each would embark on the enterprise of 
mending his earthly condition, and hasten away from his 
present state, elated with the hopes of paradise. Each would 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 121 

still find the world the same tedious wilderness, every path of 
which is filled with thorns and briars, and overhung with dark- 
ness and gloom. 

But to have things according to our mind would be still 
more fatal to our spiritual interests. In this case, how differ- 
ently should we order events from the manner in which God 
orders them ! How many of the trials and afflictions of life 
should we refuse to bear! How different our whole path 
through it ! As it is, God who is rich in mercy ; God, whose 
peculiar attribute it is to educe good from evil, directs all — 
directs all in that manner which is best adapted to promote 
our highest, even our spiritual and eternal good. Our earthly 
parents correct us after their pleasure. The Father of spirits 
for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Oh, 
how imperfectly we estimate the value of things ! If we duly 
considered what it is to be partakers of God's holiness, and 
that each and every event that befalls us is appointed by his 
wisdom to promote this end, could we even wish one providen- 
tial event to be other than it is ? To be a partaker of the holi- 
ness of God is the highest point of exaltation — imagination 
can ascend no higher. If we are partakers of God's holiness, 
we shall also be partakers of God's happiness. For holiness 
and happiness are one. It is sin that separates these sister 
seraphs on earth. God would unite them here, and by his 
providential appointments would perfect that union for its 
final consummation in the heavens. Oh, how little do we 
think of this ! God speaks plainly, audibly, but man will not 
hear. One mourns the loss of the partner of his bosom, who 
gave to life its sweetest joys ; and he is ready to ask why are 
his desires crossed and his prospects blasted ? God does it to 
humble and to prove thee, to make thee a partaker of his holi- 
ness. Another has laid wise and promising schemes of wealth 
and prosperity ; but unforeseen events occur and defeat them. 
He blames this or that person, and wonders that he should be 
thus doomed to misfortune. God has done it, to make him a 
partaker of his holiness. Another sets out with high expecta- 
Yol. I.— 6 



122 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

tion of fame and eminence, to be reached by scientific acquire- 
ments. Disease interposes and blasts all his prospects. How 
cruel ! — he is ready to exclaim. But God has done it — how kind 
and gracious ! — that he might be a partaker of his holiness. 
How many thousands had never learned the vanity of the 
world, bnt persisted in the path of death, and gone over the 
precipice of hell, had not God defeated their counsels and 
their schemes ! It is well that God does not consult us. Like 
undutiful children we welcome not correction. Stupid and 
insensible, careless of our own interests, and still more uncon- 
cerned for the great designs of God, we lament our hardships, 
and labor only to forget or avoid them. It is the hand and 
the heart of paternal love. It is the God of mercy aiming to 
make thee like himself in holiness and blessedness. Eepining 
child, " should it be according to thy mind?" 

HI. This state of mind is highly offensive to God. It be- 
trays almost every evil temper and disposition. It shows a 
sordid attachment to our own selfish interests. Who in the 
heyday of health and prosperity, of the enjoyment of friends 
and earthly good, is heard to complain of a mysterious Provi- 
dence — who, then dissatisfied with God's government, is wish- 
ing to govern himself ? "Who is especially disturbed by the 
progress of events in other countries, or those which befall 
other men ? Oh, no ; it is when these events affect us — when 
they interfere with our schemes and defeat our wishes — it is 
then only that all is dark and calamitous — then only that God 
is incompetent to govern. And what does this prove? — that 
our schemes and plans, our interests, are all-important in our 
estimation ; and that what becomes of our spiritual good — what 
becomes of the kingdom and the glory of God — is no concern 
of ours. 

This desire betrays also dissatisfaction with God. If we 
were not dissatisfied with what he does, why should we wish 
for the privilege of doing better ? If it were enough for us 
that under God's administration every event, no matter what, 
falls into its proper place, that each and all are arranged in 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 123 

luminous order, to subserve the purposes of God, and that to 
change one would be the subversion of the end of his good- 
ness ; and if what satisfies God were satisfactory to us, why 
should we wish to alter even the fall of a sparrow ? 

It bespeaks ingratitude to God. What are these providen- 
tial events which we so often wish to change ? The appoint- 
ments of God — the expressions of his kindness to us — " angels 
sent on errands full of love ;" and yet we complain, and wish 
that something better than angels might be sent. All is not 
right, for " it is not according to our mind." God should gratify 
us, though to our ruin ; God should not thwart and disappoint 
us, even to secure to us a participation of his nature and his 
blessedness. "What more ungrateful than thus to complain of 
the kindness of our heavenly parent ? The wisdom, the power, 
the goodness of Jehovah are employed for our good, and we 
are dissatisfied and thankless ! 

This state of mind is direct rebellion against God. To gov- 
ern the world is the prerogative of God. To wish to change 
the administration at all is an invasion of that prerogative, and 
high treason against the King of kings. The place of man is 
the footstool, not the throne of the Eternal. To submit, not 
to reign — to acquiesce, not to direct, is his duty. The spirit 
that refuses compliance is a spirit of revolt. The spirit that 
would change one event of Providence, by changing God's ad- 
ministration, is a spirit of war on God. It is prepared to rear 
the standard, and carry the triumphant shout of rebellion up 
to the throne of the Almighty. 

It is distrust of God. When the day is bright, and every 
scene delightful, then we confess and adore and trust the boun- 
tiful Giver of our blessings. For then we see, or think we see 
him concerned for our well-being. But let God retire behind 
a cloud — let his dispensations become trying and mysterious, 
and we feel that all these things are against us — the specific 
design, the ultimate results, are not understood — the reasons 
are beyond our discovery — God is no longer seen, and there- 
fore is no longer trusted. Now we long for the prerogative of 



124 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

government, and disdain that repose and quiet which spring 
from confidence in a reigning God. But what more vile than 
such a state of mind in a being so blind, so helpless, so depen- 
dent, so sinful, as man? Think of the God whom he dis- 
trusts — a God not angry even when he chastens, but whose 
frowns are but the graver countenance of love — a God to whom 
he is invited to look up, in the midst of affliction, as to a tender 
Father — a God who, by promise and by privilege, has done all 
that can be needed — more than can be asked or conceived — 
for his support and consolation. His is the promise, if he con- 
fide in him who makes it, that all things shall work together 
for good. His is the promise, if he be like his Saviour in suffer- 
ing in this world, that he shall be like him, too, in glory and 
happiness in a better. His the privilege, amid all the changes 
of this life, to lift an eye of joy and confidence upward, and to 
be led ever by the hand of heaven ; his the privilege to find 
in God an almighty refuge, an unfailing friend, and all-suffi- 
cient portion. It is not enough that God is everywhere, that 
God does it — not enough to know that God's glory and his 
happiness may be one — not enough that he is everywhere sur- 
rounded by the visible form of God's perfection — man would 
have it according to his mind ; and now because he cannot, 
and because he cannot see the reasons and utility of the event, 
because he has none but God to trust, he feels himself undone. 
I need not say how offensive to God it is to be willing to trust 
him no further than we see him. What if he vails his glories, 
conceals his reasons — what if he wraps himself in clouds? 
"Who does not hear his voice, " Be still, and know that I am 
God ?" And who shall not obey ? 

REMAKES. 

1. Submission to the divine will is necessary to secure the 
blessings which we need. We may indeed desire the enjoy- 
ment of blessings or the removal of calamities, and at the 
same time submissively leave the event with God. It is our 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 125 

privilege to make known our wishes to God, with confidence 
in his wisdom and goodness to give or withhold what seemeth 
good in his sight. But far removed is such a state of mind 
from that which demands the blessing, and which insists upon 
having it — that comes to the Almighty with " I will not take 
no for an answer." It is these rash, unqualified desires — these 
enforcing claims that will not bear a refusal, which God abhors 
for their presumption and their guilt. These are desires the 
gratification of which would be a curse to us. If God in such 
cases would bless us, he will be sure to refuse what we desire. 
As a wise and faithful parent, he will see our willfulness sub- 
dued, before he gives us the blessing. He will delay till he 
sees our impetuous fondness, our eager desires, subside into 
confidence in him, and submission to his will ; he will wait till 
we can think of the Giver as well as the gift. This is the wise 
and gracious economy of God's procedure. And if we would 
be blessed of him, we must cease to order — cease to prefer our 
unqualified claims — cease to be engrossed with any gift or any 
blessing which we judge needful. We must come to the 
temper of the Saviour, and when we say, " Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me," we must be careful, yes, 
as careful as if the judgment-day were at hand, to add, "Never- 
theless, not my will, hut thine 06 done. 77 

2. Acquiescence in the divine will is a duty which respects 
all events. We are not to feel that while some events are 
to be acquiesced in as the expression of the will of God, 
others should be according to our mind. This is no uncom- 
mon feeling, not even with good men, in reference to two 
classes of events — those which affect their spiritual interests 
and those which take place as the consequence of human 
agency or conduct. Here we are apt to feel that we are privi- 
leged to choose for ourselves, and to complain if we are not 
gratified. True it is, that the promotion of our spiritual inter- 
ests always accords with the will of God ; we may desire it 
unqualifiedly. But then, to order the ways and means of pro- 
moting these interests, as they are affected by providential 



126 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

events, is a prerogative which our covenant-God reserves to 
himself. Whether, as his children, we shall be allowed to 
unite in the ordinances of public worship, or be confined to 
the bed of languishing, or be prevented from attendance by 
domestic duties — whether we shall be placed where the gospel 
is seldom or imperfectly, or unskillfully preached, or where its 
instructions are heard every Sabbath, as dispensed by an angel 
from heaven — whether, in a word, our providential circum- 
stances shall be such as we might deem most desirable or not, 
God appoints them ; and whatever they are, if we are his chil- 
dren, they are the best for us. 

Under trying events, brought about by the will and agency 
of men, submission is equally called for. Here we are apt to 
forget that God governs ; to feel that it is as right that our 
will should be gratified as the will of those who oppose us, 
and to be so dissatisfied if we are thwarted and defeated, as 
perversely to abandon even the plainest subsequent duties. My 
brethren, what if the apostles had felt and done thus — what 
if, under the opposition, and reproaches, and sufferings, and 
deaths they met, from the hands of men, they had forgotten 
God, and renounced the service of their divine Master ? What 
had been their consolation, what had been their guilt, and 
what had become of that gospel which we enjoy and which 
has carried salvation to all the nations ? What if they had 
said : If we cannot, through the perverseness and hostility of 
men, have it according to our mind, we will murmur and re- 
treat, and do nothing I Yes ; and what if the Son of God had 
felt and done thus when the cross was in prospect ? The light 
of salvation would never have dawned on this guilty world — 
the message of pardon from God never greeted a human ear ; 
and if Christians should feel and act thus, that light, bright 
and glorious as it is, would be extinguished within half a cen- 
tury, and the world be shrouded in all the gloom of despairing 
guilt. God forbid, brethren, that we should have thoughts 
like these! The God with whom we have to do hath the 
hearts of all men in his hands, and though he is never the 



GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 127 

author of their sins, all their doings are under his providential 
government ; and whatever they are, whatever interest of ours 
they may defeat, whatever costly sacrifice they oblige us to 
make, they are as truly a ground for submission as an express 
command from the voice of God himself. 

3. Let this subject support us under the trials of this world, 
and animate us in our way to a better. If, under the de- 
feats and disappointments, the crosses and the trials of life, 
we would, with a full conviction of the presumption, folly, 
and guilt of the desire, ask ourselves — " Should it be accord- 
ing to our mind ?" — how much the burden of earthly calamity 
would be lightened ! How it would smooth the troubled sea, 
would we yield ourselves to be borne peacefully on its waves, 
instead of entering into contest with its surges ! It is our self- 
will, our controversy with events, or rather with God, that is 
the grand source of our unhappiness under the trials that be- 
fall us. Let us, then, under every adverse event, every cross, 
however trivial, and every affliction, however calamitous, check 
our feelings of revolt, by asking, "Should it be according to 
my mind ? or according to the mind of him who worketh all 
things according to the counsel of his own will ?" Oh ! could 
we set God always before us ; could we live, as it were, sur- 
rounded by the visible forms of his perfections, and make our 
will one with his, how it would soothe and cheer this weary 
pilgrimage on earth ! In the darkest hour, and amid all the 
terrors and dismay of the heaviest tempest, light would beam 
upon us from the eternal throne ; and that voice be heard : " It 
is i", be not afraid!" Trusting in God, I can stand on a falling 
universe and triumph there. 

True it is, we are now in a world of trials ; it is the place of 
discipline, of correction ; we need the rod, we shall often feel 
even severity in its strokes. They will be for our profit ; and 
shall not the heir of glory submit — shall he mourn and be sad, 
and murmur under the means of preparation for his inherit- 
ance ? " Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the 
feeble knees ; and make straight paths for your feet." Beyond 



128 GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN. 

this vale of tears is a better country, even an heavenly. Soon 
the toils and troubles of the way will be over ; and there, on 
those hills of salvation, you shall look back on the path of 
your ascent, and round on the glories of your abode, and praise 
him who brought you thither. In his light you shall see light, 
and the works of providence, the works of grace, and the 
works of glory will be the theme of one eternal song — "Great 
and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and 
right are all thy ways, O thou King of saints !" 



X. 

THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 

Matthew vii. 12. 

"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even 
so to them: for this is the law and the prophets." 

The light and warmth of the sun no more clearly bespeak 
the hand that formed it, than the excellence of this rule of con- 
duct declare it to be from God. Human wisdom, by actual 
experiment, has proved itself incapable of discovering a rule 
adequate to the regulation of human conduct and the security 
of human happiness. But, that contained in our text is no 
sooner presented to the mind of man than its excellence and 
its obligation are seen and confessed. A single glance shows 
us that the cause of all the misery in this world which results 
from our intercourse with one another, is disobedience to this 
divine precept ; and that so far as our happiness depends on 
one another, that perfect obedience to this rule would bless 
every child of Adam. 

Although no rule is perhaps so universally admired, yet 
none is more universally broken. It is easily understood as a 
rule by which others should regulate their conduct toward us, 
but little known, in its true import, as a rule by which we 
should regulate our conduct toward them. 

My design is — 

First, To explain the rule ; 

Second, To show its obligation. 

I. In explaining the rule, let us examine the different parts 
of it. 

"All things whatsoever" This clause declares its universal 
6* 9 



130 THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 

extent. It is not a rule which, is to regulate merely some 
parts of our conduct toward our fellow-men, hut all parts of 
it. We may do some things, perhaps many things, to others 
which we would wish them to do to us, and yet in many other 
things he wholly and habitually selfish. A man, for example, 
may give food to the hungry, hut hahitually overreach and 
defraud. In such a case it is plain not only that he breaks the 
rule in the latter instance, but that he has not a spirit of con- 
formity to it in the former. The language of our Lord is all 
things — all things whatsoever. Let it be settled in any one 
thing whatever, that you would that men should do it to you, 
and you are required so to do to them. There is no exception. 
" All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do 
ye even so to them" — not some men, not your families, your 
friends, your acquaintances, but men. No matter who he is, 
whether friend or enemy, if he is a fellow-creature, one of your 
own species, a man, you must be governed by this rule in all 
that you do toward him. 

"Do ye even so." In this clause we are directed not only to 
do the things themselves which we would that others should 
do to us, but also to the utmost exactness in doing so. Do ye 
even so. Do exactly these things ; nothing less than this is 
allowed ; all this is required. 

" Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you." This 
clause is of especial importance, because it is by what we 
would that others should do to us, that we are to determine 
what we are to do to them. Before we act we must in every 
instance inquire what would we that another should do to us. 
What, then, are we to understand by the clause, whatsoever ye 
would that men should do to you f 

It has commonly been supposed, by commentators, that a 
literal interpretation of this text is inconsistent with other 
plain scriptural duties, and that therefore the rule is to be ex- 
plained by certain qualifications or restrictions not expressed 
in it ; for our desires of good from others may be selfish and 
extravagant, and to make such desires the measure of what we 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OE MORALITY. 131 

are to do to others, would in many cases be doing what is not 
required, as well as what is forbidden. For example, a rich 
man may feel and say, " If I were in that poor man's place 
and he in mine, I should wish him to give me his estate ; and 
now, if I am to do as I would be done by, I am to show him 
the same kindness, and give him my estate." This difficulty 
evidently arises from inadequate views of the text. The rule 
contains its own explanation and limitation. If I am to do to 
others as I would that they should do to me, then I am to love 
them as I love myself; not them more than myself, nor myself 
more than them. If, therefore, I were to give my estate, if I 
were rich, to a poor man, I should do that which in this re- 
spect would imply that I loved him Tnore than myself, which 
would be a palpable violation of the rule. Besides, how can 
I, putting myself in the poor man's place, wish another to give 
me his estate — wish that he should impoverish himself to en- 
rich me, without violating the rule. In this very wish I am 
desiring my own happiness more than my neighbor's, and thus 
I counteract the very spirit and letter of the rule itself. I am 
cherishing a selfish desire when I imagine myself in the poor 
man's place. I am saying, if I were that poor man I would be 
as selfish as I well could be. In deciding what we would that 
others should do to us — i, e. in forming our desires of good 
from others — we are to remember that we are to cherish the 
same desires to impart good to them. Thus one desire is to 
check and regulate and define the other. Thus the rule aims 
directly at the utter extinction of all selfish inordinate desires 
of good, and requires simply that what we would on disin- 
terested principles desire from others, were we in their circum- 
stances and they in ours, we are to do to them. 

Let us examine this a little further. We are to do to others 
what we would on truly benevolent principles desire from 
them. The existence of the happiness of one man, other 
things being equal, is of equal value with that of another. 
The simple fact that the happiness of one of the two is mine, 
gives it no additional value. It has precisely the same value 



132 THE BULE AND THE TEST OE MORALITY. 

as when it is the happiness of another. All the value which I 
can reasonably attach to my happiness, because it is mine, he 
can as reasonably attach to his, because it is his. All that I 
am to myself he is to himself, and all that I am as it respects 
him he is as it respects me. The reason why I should regard 
his happiness as much as my own, circumstances being the 
same, is as plain and conclusive as that things of equal value 
ought to be equally loved or desired. If therefore, I have a 
right to any given treatment from my neighbor — to any act of 
kindness from him — he, in the same circumstances, has the 
same right to the same treatment or acts of kindness from me. 
If my right lays him under obligation to me, his right lays me 
under the same obligation to him. 

There is a great diversity in the character and stations of 
men. It is very desirable there should be, and as it is not in 
our power so it is not our duty, on principles of true benevo- 
lence, to wish to alter them. There is, therefore, a consequent 
variety of duties owed to men. But we can easily determine, 
by the rule before us, what these duties are. We can easily 
imagine ourselves in the place of others and others in our 
place ; we can then easily look into our minds and ascertain 
what treatment we should wish on truly disinterested princi- 
ples from them, in such change of circumstances. When this 
is ascertained the question of duty is settled. 

Thus a ruler is to treat his subjects as he would wish to 
be treated were he a subject. But he is not bound to yield 
that submission to his subjects, which as a ruler, he justly de- 
mands of them. This he could not do without sacrificing the 
public good to private interest — i. e., he could not do it on dis- 
interested principles. For, if he were a subject, he could not 
on such principles wish for the submission and obedience of a 
ruler to himself. A judge is not required to acquit, though he 
might on selfish principles wish, were he the criminal, to be ac- 
quitted, because he could not on benevolent principles wish the 
laws of justice to be abandoned, and the guilty to go unpun- 
ished. Thus, too, a parent or head of a family is not required 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 133 

to neglect to promote the welfare of his own household, to 
promote the welfare of his neighbors, because on truly disin- 
terested principles he could not wish his neighbor to do so by 
him. So, also, an individual is not required to sacrifice his 
own happiness to promote an equal degree of happiness in an- 
other individual, because it is as right that the former should 
enjoy it, if but one can enjoy it, as that the latter should ; and 
therefore the former could not, on truly disinterested principles, 
desire that the latter should do so by him. On the same prin- 
ciple we are not required to put our property into common 
stock for the equal benefit of all. This would tend, as a general 
rule, to promote so many evils, that if we were poor we could 
not on benevolent principles desire it. 

The amount of this rule of our Lord is, that in determining 
what our duty is to others, and in performing it, our selfish- 
ness is to have no voice and no influence. We are required to 
make the case of another our own, to put ourselves into his 
place, and thus absolutely to divest ourselves of every particle 
of selfishness — thus absolutely to escape its influence in the 
judgment we form of our duty, and in the actual performance 
of it. It is as if our Lord had said : Regard your neighbor in 
his wants, his rights, his happiness, as another self. Ask, 
then, how, as a reasonable, disinterested man, you would be 
treated by him ; and treat him exactly in that manner. 

I proceed — ■ 

II. To enforce the duty. 

1. God has commanded it. The duty is enjoined in the 
form of a command in the text. It were easy to show that 
every command in the sacred table of the law is only a branch 
of this precept. If, then, we owe any duty to our fellow- 
creatures it is this; we, in fact, know no other; and if this is 
not performed none is performed. 

The only question, then, is : has God enjoined on us any 
duty toward man ; and, if he has, is that duty binding? 

2. The duty is obviously reasonable and right. Let any man 
consult his own reason and conscience, let him only hear the 



134: THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 

precept, and he needs no other counselor nor casuist; he 
knows and feels its binding power, and is self-condemned if he 
breaks it. It is written indelibly on his conscience, and he can 
no more escape a sense of its obligation than he can amiihilate 
his sense of accountability. Every man desires his neighbor 
to rejoice in his welfare, to sympathize with him in his afflic- 
tions, to relieve his distresses, to promote his happiness, to be 
tender of his reputation and not to slander his good name, to 
put a kind and not a harsh construction on his conduct, to be 
kindly affectioned toward him and not angry or malicious, to 
be forgiving and not revengeful toward him, to be just and 
honest toward him in his dealing, not to overreach or take 
advantage of his weakness or unwariness. If he be a servant 
or a subject, he would not wish his master or the magistrate to 
treat him as a tyrant. If a master or magistrate, he would 
wish his servant or subject to be faithful and obedient. Let 
the appeal, made to any one : have you not these desires and 
wishes with regard to the conduct of others toward you? 
Do you not know and feel that such is the conduct which 
others ought to show to you ? Then, while legislating for 
others, you have passed a law for yourself. For who and 
what are you, that you are to be treated thus by your fellow- 
men, and yet are allowed to treat them as you please ? Are 
not you of the same species — have you rights which others 
have not ? Are not their rights as sacred and inviolable as 
yours ? Are they not as dear and as important to them as 
yours are to you ? How, then, can they be under this sacred 
obligation to respect yours, and yet you be entitled to an 
exemption from mutual obligation to them ? My hearers, we 
know we are not. We may as well persuade ourselves that it 
is lawful to murder, as that it is lawful to depart from this 
precept in a single instance. 

3. This rule has a most direct and effectual tendency to pro- 
mote the happiness of men. The greatest, far the greatest 
portion of misery suffered by men is produced by themselves, 
and that, by disobeying the precept before us. For if men 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OE MORALITY. 135 

were actuated universally by this principle there would be no 
wars, no tumults among nations, no jealousies and contentions 
in families, no animosities in neighborhoods, no oppression, 
fraud, or injustice, or overreaching, no drunkenness, lewdness, 
gambling, no avarice, pride, ambition. And, brethren, anni- 
hilate the miseries produced by these things in the world, 
and how would its dismal surface be cheered and bright- 
ened ! All men would be friends ; universal justice, truth, 
goodness, gentleness, kindness, compassion, candor, forgive- 
ness, attended and surrounded with the brighter train of deeds 
of beneficence, would reign and fill the world. At the same 
time, the very obedience to the precept itself would, in itself, 
constitute a sum of happiness far greater than would be com- 
municated by it. For it is more blessed, more happy to give 
than to receive. By such a change, how would the sufferings 
that would remain, shrink to an atom, and the curse of God, 
that lies so heavily on the world of sin, be lightened and for- 
gotten ! And is not such a rule of conduct binding ? Is there 
an individual, whatever others may do, who may venture 
safely to break the precept and thus to prevent, so far as in 
him lies, this amount of good ; yea, an individual who can 
safely incur the guilt of putting his hand to the work of thus 
augmenting the miseries of man ? 

4. Obedience to this rule is the most ennobling character of 
man. The spirit inculcated is the very opposite of selfishness ; 
and selfishness is the very substance of moral degradation. 
No man is so distinguished for meanness in every age, as he 
who is prominently and in every thing marked with sordid 
selfishness. We are often beguiled by an external semblance 
of disinterestedness : but remove the garb — let the selfish heart 
be unmasked — let it be seen in its desires, affections, pur- 
poses, wishes, plans and actions, its envy, its unmercifulness, 
its oppressions, its insensibility to others' wants and woes, its 
frauds and deceptions, its prostration of all that is or can be ap- 
proved or loved at the feet of self, and we contemn and abhor 
it. Eo object beheld by mortal eye can be so contemptible 



136 TIIE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 

and so deformed. But behold the man who loves his neigh- 
bor as himself! Behold him raised, as it were to heaven, 
by the principles just described; behold his heart fixed on 
the good of his fellow-men, his friends, his enemies, his neigh- 
bor, and the stranger, as on his own happiness! What is there 
lovely, what of good report, what of moral beauty, that does 
not shine in such a character ? How mean are the proudest 
heroes of this world compared with that obscure and, perhaps, 
despised man who loves his neighbor as himself — compared 
with her who deposited her last mite in the treasury of the 
Lord ! How like an angel of mercy does that woman appear 
compared with that man or woman who, surrounded with 
wealth, lives only in self-indulgence ! 

Here is true dignity, the dignity of apostles, the dignity of 
angels ; shall I say, the dignity of Jehovah ! Yes, it is the 
self-same principle of doing to others as he would that they 
should do to him, that moves all the energies of the eternal 
God. Is it not real greatness to be like him ? 

5. "We can neither be fit for, nor admitted into heaven 
without this character. The word of God no less decisively 
denounces exclusion from heaven for sins against our fellow- 
men, than for those committed against himself. "Be not de- 
ceived," saith the apostle, repeating the very acts of selfishness, 
"neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effemi- 
nate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor 
covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners" (and, 
as he says in another place, after giving nearly the same cata- 
logue), " nor they that do such things, shall inherit the king- 
dom of God." 

At the same time, it is impossible not to see in every page of 
the Scriptures the necessity of a fitness for heaven which con- 
sists in the subjugation of selfish to benevolent principles, and 
which are all summed up in one expressive term, "Holiness, 
without which no man shall see the Lord." Whatever be our 
state of mind, or the nature of our principles here on earth, it 
cannot but go with us into eternity. The character of man at 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OE MORALITY. 137 

death will become unchangeable. He will go with a heart to 
relish the joys of heaven, or with a conscience to inflict the 
eternal pangs of conscious guilt. The spirit of benevolence is 
the spirit of heaven — the feeling which warms and blesses 
the highest angel and the lowest saint. The temper of 
selfishness is the corroding fire of the eternal pit : the soul, 
under its dominion, stung by its insatiable desires, whose pres- 
ent food is wholly withdrawn, has no parallel in this world. 
" Within him hell he brings, and round about him." Selfish- 
ness here, is hell hereafter. How striking the contrast, how 
deep and broad the gulf between this and the happy lot of 
a soul that bears the spirit of heaven, and dwells in that 
world of love ! And is not the rule which enjoins this spirit 
binding on man ? Say not, no one ever kept it ; no one 
does to others as he would that they should do to him. 
Disobedience ever so constant, ever so bold, will not re- 
peal the eternal law of the eternal God, nor abate its eternal 
penalty. 

REMARKS. 

1. We see that many things which are deemed consistent 
with this rule of Christ's are direct violations of it. Of this 
class many things might be enumerated, did time permit. I 
can only mention a few. The duelist, who enters the field to 
take the life of a fellow-creature, pretends to plead that he con- 
sents that his antagonist should take his life, if by superior skill 
or fortune he can do it, and asks, where is the crime of doing 
to others as we are willing they should do to us? The gam- 
bler too, vindicates his sloth and fraud by the same plea. He 
consents that his fellow should take his property if by skill 
or luck, or even fraud, he can do it; and when he takes the 
property of his neighbor, beggars his family, and ruins his 
reputation and perhaps his soul, he also asks, where is the 
harm of doing as I am willing to be done by? The art- 
ful, wily tradesman, who by undue commendations of his own 



138 THE RULE AND THE TEST OE MORALITY. 

goods, and, in a case of barter, by depreciation of bis neigh- 
bors' by partial statements, or if not, by falsehood and conceal- 
ment of truth respecting the qualities, the cost, the current 
price, the rise and fall of markets, imposes on the credulity, 
natters the vanity, overreaches the ignorance, and decoys the 
unwariness of customers, tells you he is willing to be treated 
in the same manner ; if others can get the advantage of him in 
these ways, let them; he has no objection; and where is the 
harm of doing as you are willing to be done by ? Doing as 
you would be done by ! Is this doing as you would be done 
by ? Why does the duelist consent that his antagonist should 
take his life if he can do it ? That he may have an opportunity 
to take that of a fellow-creature. Is this being willing to give 
up his life to another from motives of disinterested love ? Must 
one or the other die ; and rather than that his neighbor should 
die, does he consent to die himself? Why, too, is the gambler, 
or the man who takes undue advantage of his neighbor in trade, 
willing that others should do to him as he does to them ? For 
the same reason substantially, as it respects the morality of the 
act, that governs the duelist. They are willing that others 
should treat them thus, that they may obtain, or at least have 
the opportunity of obtaining, their neighbors' property without 
an equivalent. For, if they are really willing their neighbors 
should have their property without an equivalent, why not 
give it to them directly ? My hearers, such is the deception 
which men practice on themselves, in these and a thousand 
other cases. They are not willing to do as they pretend ; the 
proof is, that they do not do it. They are at most willing to 
run the hazard of being injured themselves, for the privilege 
of injuring their neighbor. Their own selfish desires of good 
are the standard by which they act. Only bring this con- 
duct to the rule in the text, and how easily its obliquity is 
detected — how easily it is seen that all such practice arises 
from downright selfishness, tends to injure others, yea, is de- 
signed to please and benefit themselves at the expense of a 
neighbor's ruin. For the principle that takes a cent from him 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 139 

without an equivalent, would take his estate or his life. Let 
us then, my hearers, be undeceived on this subject. Let us 
remember that much which is supposed to be consistent with 
this golden rule of our Lord Jesus Christ is a direct violation 
of that rule and a contempt of his authority; that "much which 
is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight 
of God." 

2. We remark that there is very little genuine morality in 
the world. By morality, we generally mean right conduct 
toward our fellow-men in all respects. But what is true mo- 
rality — what is right conduct toward our fellow-men ? Is it 
the offspring of selfishness — is it just that, and no more than 
what our own self-interest allows or demands ? Is it to be 
measured by what the world deems sufficient — is it that which 
will pass well in point of respectability — is it that which dis- 
tinguishes the decent and sober part of the community from 
the grossly vicious and abandoned ? No. What, then, is the 
true standard of morality, of right conduct toward our fellow- 
man ? Out text. What is its true nature ? It consists in 
doing to others as we would that they should do to us. This 
is morality — morality such as God commands and God ap- 
proves. It proceeds from right principles. It governs the 
man; it blesses its object. And now, where is it? Which 
feature is most prominent in the human character — doing as 
we loould be done by, or doing as we are done by ? Where is 
the idol Self not worshiped ? Who does not feel the neces- 
sity of watching his own concerns, by guarding against the en- 
croachments of others — who finds no collision of interest or 
pursuit with his fellow-man \ How audibly does the practice 
of the great bulk of our race say, let each one take care of 
himself! How extensive in trade is the maxim adopted, 
" Keep what you have gotten, and get what you can ;" in be- 
neficence, " Charity begins at home I" And under the influence 
of such axioms, where is the justice, the honesty, the charity 
which the Lord Jesus Christ enjoins % Let us compare, for a 
moment, the character and state of men, the ignorance, the sin, 



140 THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 

the sorrow which, prevail in the world, with what we know 
would be the effect of the holy principle before us, did it 
exert an influence only within moderate limits, and we shall 
have an answer which should make us blush and tremble. 

3. How it would commend the religion of the gospel to all, 
if there were more of the spirit of the text manifested by its 
professors. I need not say how much reproach is brought on 
the gospel by these unholy lives. When a heathen could say, 
with truth, to a missionary of the cross, " If your religion be so 
much better than ours why are you yourselves no better than 
we ?" — what reply would be made ? And when the world 
around us see professors making no more conscience of justice, 
honesty or charity than other men — as deceitful, as over-reach- 
ing, as slanderous, as unforgiving, as sordid, as covetous as 
they — what will they think of religion? I know they re- 
proach us often unjustly ; I know there is more of hatred than 
of truth in their censures, and that often the best men are re- 
viled the most. But can nothing be done to commend the 
religion of the Lord Jesus Christ ? Yes, one thing will do it ; 
the spirit and practice of doing to others as we would that they 
should do to us. Let this be seen, and it will command the 
homage, if it does not stop the mouth, of a gainsaying world. 
Stand at a visible distance from the meanness of a selfish 
spirit, from all deceit and covetousness. Stand aloof from 
an unkind and unforgiving temper. Let it be obvious that 
you do make some sacrifices of private interest for others' good 
by a largeness of liberality, and an extent of beneficence pro- 
portioned to your known ability ; leave no ground for the sus- 
picion that you have not another and a better spirit than the 
world around you. Who then could doubt the reality Qr the 
excellence of the religion of Christ? Your devotional acts 
may be construed into formality and hypocrisy, and be de- 
nounced as making no difference between you and them ; but 
the practice, which evinces the spirit of our text, will form a 
broad and visible line of distinction. And if it does not bring 
them to the feet of your Master with cordial submission, it 



THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY. 141 

will lay them there in silent respect. Let us, then, study the 
import, and imbibe the spirit of this divine rule. Let us open 
our hearts to its high and holy sanctions. My brethren, as 
you regard the authority of God, the rights and happiness of 
your fellow-men, a resemblance to the Lord Jesus Christ ; as 
you would recommend his gospel, and save souls from death ; 
as you would escape the present infamy, and the eternal tor- 
ments of insatiate selfishness ; as you would become fitted for 
the presence of the holy and benevolent God — "All things 
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so 
to them" 

4. I cannot close without remarking, how much we all 
need a Saviour ! I say all / for, let it be noticed, that to con- 
demn what is wrong in the professors of religion, does not 
justify what is wrong in those who are not. If the former are 
so imperfect — even those who have something of true disinter- 
estedness toward men — what shall be said of those who have 
none of it ? And now, I appeal to each and to all of you — can 
you lay your hand on your heart, and before God, who sees it, 
say that you have, in every instance of conduct toward man, 
" done to others as ye would that they should do to you V If 
not, you are condemned ; for this is the law and the prophets, 
and " cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which 
are written in the book of the law, to do them." 

May I not ask many, if you have done this in one instance ; 
have you ever been rescued from that spirit which, in all its 
desires and all its acts, makes self its center? Tried, then, 
only by the second table of the law, what are your hopes ? 
If you love not your brethren whom you have seen, how can 
you love God whom you have not seen ? "What will all your 
morality, your honesty, uprightness, charity amount to with a 
heart that has no love to God or man ? It is a mere covering, 
a thin vail, which hides that heart from yourself and from 
others. But how will it dissolve by a look from the omniscient 
eye ! Oh, depend not on it for acceptance at his bar — build 
not on this rotten foundation ! Morality, morality, morality — 



142 THE RULE AND THE TEST OP MORALITY. 

with a hollow heart — will not commend you to God. You 
must, fellow-sinner, have another dependence to save you from 
the pit. You must be washed in the blood of Jesus; you 
must, if you stand at all before a holy God, stand in his right- 
eousness. 






XL 

SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

Matt. vi. 22, 23. 

" The light of the body is the eye : if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole 
body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of 
darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that dark- 
ness!" 

The object of our Lord in this figurative declaration is to 
illustrate the influence of practical principles. The point of 
comparison is this, that what the eye is to the body, the com- 
manding principle of the heart is to the whole moral man. 

The eye is the light of the body. It is that by which all its 
motions and actions are guided and directed. If the eye be 
single, clear, unclouded, and properly directed, the whole 
body is full of light ; all its motions are made with safety, 
precision, and certainty. But if the eye be evil, diseased, 
and, by consequence, its vision dim and obscured, the whole 
body will be full of darkness ; all its motions will bespeak the 
want of light ; the feet will stumble, the step be uncertain, 
the hands will miss their aim, and every attempt at motion 
result in confusion and disappointment. If, then, the light 
that is in thee be darkness, if the eye of the body be thus 
blind, how great is the darkness — how will every member of 
the body, thus dependent on the eye, be lost and useless to 
all the purposes of life ! 

Such is the literal import of the text. Its application is 
this : our Lord, to enforce the warning against amassing 
treasure upon earth, gives this important reason, " For where 
your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Whatever a 



1M SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

man regards as his chief good, on that, his heart — his supreme 
affections — will be fixed ; and by that will all his specific 
opinions, affections, desires, purposes, and actions be regu- 
lated and controlled. What, then, the eye is to the body, the 
practical estimate and regard which a man forms of his chief 
good is to the whole moral character. If the eye be in- 
capable of vision, the whole body is doomed to all the evils of 
utter darkness. So, if the practical estimate which men form 
of their good be not according to the truth and reality of 
things, the whole moral man is doomed to error, to sin, and 
to ruin. 

To illustrate and confirm this truth I remark — - 

I. That the practical estimate which every man forms of his 
chief good respects either God or the world as its object. 
These are the only sources of good, of any kind or degree, 
which are opened to man. If we look at his capacities of en- 
joyment, as he is constituted by his Maker, we see that he is 
utterly incapable of any other happiness. Take God and the 
world away, and the universe, in point of enjoyment, would 
be to man an absolute desert. Experience tells us this. From 
what other source, beside one of these, did man ever attempt 
to find, or ever dream of finding, happiness ? If you look into 
the Scriptures no third source of enjoyment is named. Here 
all departures from God are ascribed to the temptations which 
the world presents ; all men are represented as taking their 
portion in the good things the world affords, or as finding 
their happiness in God as their portion. The impossibility of 
serving two masters is expressly asserted, and the whole race 
classified as the servants of God or the servants of Mammon. 
Every human being, then, practically esteems God or the 
world as his chief good. 

II. This practical estimate determines on which of the two 
objects the heart is fixed. Here, it is necessary to distinguish 
carefully between a speculative estimate or judgment, and that 
which is practical. A speculative judgment is a mere act of 
the intellect without any regard to a practical end. It is the 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 145 

same thing employed respecting practical objects, as when 
employed respecting those which are not practical. Thus, it 
is the same employment of the mind which judges of the com- 
parative beauty of different landscapes or the comparative in- 
tellectual greatness of two men, as that, considered as an act 
of speculation, which judges of the comparative excellence of 
God and the world as the portion of the soul. Accordingly, 
thousands form this judgment correctly, on whom it has no 
practical influence. Where is the man that would not say 
that the living God is a better portion for an immortal being 
than this vain and transitory world ? Now a practical esti- 
mate differs essentially from this. It is an estimate or judg- 
ment which respects practical things, formed for the very pur- 
pose of practice. It implies a state of mind prepared to ren- 
der a practical submission to the judgment formed ; and, ac- 
cordingly, a judgment thus formed by an irreversible law of 
our nature is sure to carry the heart along with it. The heart 
is the great practical principle of the soul ; and when the 
judgment is made for practical purposes — that is, with a state 
of mind prepared to follow the judgment in actual practice, 
the judgment and the heart always accord. " Where a man's 
treasure is, there his heart will be also." 

Now, the great moral calamity of our race is, that they 
never, when left to themselves, put the mind into this atti- 
tude ; they never come to the question whether God or the 
w r orld is the proper portion of the soul, with a state of mind 
prepared practically to submit to the judgment which they 
shall form. Their practical estimate is already made. They 
regard the world as their chief good, and are resolved to take 
it as their portion. A supreme regard to the world in some 
form, or in many forms, as it appeals to ambition, to covetous- 
ness, to the love of ease or of pleasure, this supreme regard to 
the world becomes their predominating principle, their com- 
manding purpose, which controls and characterizes the whole 
man. This is that " evil eye" which makes " the whole body 
full of darkness." 
Vol. I.— 7 



146 SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

On the contrary, when one truly has come to the question 
whether God or the world is the portion of the soul, with a 
state of mind prepared practically to submit to the judgment 
that shall be formed, the judgment formed is, that God is 
the proper portion of the soul ; and the heart according with 
the judgment, fixes on this object. In his commanding pur- 
pose he takes God as the portion of his soul. Here he sees 
that his chief good, his highest happiness lies ; and his main 
object, his grand aim is, by obedience to the will of God, by 
actively glorifying God, to secure this great end of his being. 
This is that " single eye" which makes " the whole body full 
of light." 

By this supreme regard to God as the portion of the soul I 
do not intend to exclude all regard to our temporal interests. 
This is not to be expected, nor is it required. The thing 
required is that desire to please and serve God as our chief 
good, which possesses a controlling influence, which refuses to 
make no sacrifice which God demands, nor to perform any 
duty which God enjoins. 

Nor is it pretended that the strength of this principle, al- 
ways, in this world comes up to the divine requisition. There 
is a distinction between the sincerity of a principle and its 
strength. The principle of life is as real in infancy as in ma- 
ture age, though its vigor is weakness in one compared with 
its vigor in the other. So the principle in the Christian may 
be weak, and yet be real ; it may essentially differ from the 
commanding principle of all other men, although it be imper- 
fect in strength. It may be often overpowered by remaining 
internal corruption, and external temptation. Still it will ulti- 
mately prevail, and triumph over all opposition. It will bring, 
every thought into obedience to the will of God, and prepare 
its subject for a celestial throne. 

I proceed now to consider the influence of this state of mind. 
" If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. 
But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of dark- 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 147 

Let us consider the influence of this state of mind ; 

1. On a man's knowledge and belief of the truth. "No one 
can have attentively considered human nature, without seeing 
how much the opinions of men are affected by the state of the 
heart ; and how much more perfectly they understand those 
subjects which it is for their interest to understand, than any 
others. If a man's heart, then, be right with God, the great 
truths which God has revealed to influence man to act up to 
this end of his being, will be truths which he will especially 
wish to understand. It is on this principle that our Saviour 
has declared that if any man will do his will, he shall know 
of the doctrine. The doctrines of the Bible, as distinguished 
from its precepts, are those truths which supply the motives 
to holy obedience. Of course, when the heart is fixed on ren- 
dering holy obedience, there is not only a willingness, but a 
desire to understand those doctrines which furnish the motives 
to such obedience. On the contrary, while the heart is fixed 
upon the world, and opposed to the humbling, self-denying 
plan of salvation which the gospel reveals, it is to be expected 
that it will cherish an aversion to the truths which disclose 
that plan, and be peculiarly disposed to error. Such a man 
would be apt, we should say — almost with the assurance of 
prophecy — very apt to raise objections, invent evasions and 
cavils, and refuse to see and understand those truths which 
directly tend to disquiet and harass him in his state of deter- 
mined worldliness and sin. Indeed, how is it possible, that a 
man who is determined to live in sin, and to cherish hopes of 
impunity, should at the same time be willing to see and under- 
stand those truths — and thus to place himself under their 
power — which tend to demolish all his hopes, and make him 
tremble as on the brink of damnation ? 

When the heart is right, there will also be a correspondence 
between the doctrines of the gospel and such a state of mind, 
which will enable a man to perceive the truth and force of 
many doctrines of which he had otherwise remained ignorant. 
His own experience, the accordance of feeling with these 



148 SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

truths, will lead him to understand what a man without such 
experience would never discover. He whose commanding 
purpose and supreme desire is to glorify God by obedience to 
his will, will be apt to see the high standard of obedience 
which God has given. Of course, he will the more clearly 
perceive how far short he falls of the perfect obedience re- 
quired. This will prepare him to understand the strength of 
depravity within, to appreciate the value of atoning blood, to 
welcome the revealed necessity of divine grace, and to give all 
the glory to a God of sovereign mercy. While the man who 
has had no such experience, though he may be orthodox on 
many points, will be sure to embrace error enough to turn 
from his conscience the power and presence of these great 
truths of the gospel. 

ISTor do these effects of a right state of the heart respect 
merely the doctrines of the gospel ; they respect, also, the pre- 
ceptive parts of Christianity. In the interpretation of the pre- 
cepts, and in determining the duties of religion, there is much 
room for perversion — even in the plainest cases — when the 
heart is not right. Thus a man whose worldly interests seem 
to demand the violation of the Sabbath, can easily persuade 
himself that the declaration of the Saviour — " The Sabbath 
was made for man" — warrants him to travel by land or by 
sea, to labor in the field, to examine his accounts, and so on. 
Another can easily persuade himself that the precept — " to pro- 
vide for his own," — warrants, and even requires him to forget 
God, and to disobey all his other commandments. Indeed, the 
drunkard often persuades himself that no command of God is 
broken, unless all sense and power of motion are destroyed by 
strong drink, though he drinks barrels per annum. In a 
thousand cases less palpable, but equally decisive, duty is per- 
verted through the same influence — a wrong state of the heart. 
Indeed, no inconsiderable part of the questions of duty are not 
provided for by express precept, but are left to be determined 
by general principles in the exercise of an upright judgment. 
Without a right state of heart — that single eye — yea, rather 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 149 

with a wrong state of heart — that evil eye — what is to be ex- 
pected but error? What is to be expected but that such a 
man will misunderstand, will pervert the truths of his salva- 
tion, and stumble on in darkness to final perdition ? On the 
contrary, if this book be the book of God — if in plainness and 
clearness, it is worthy of its author (and who shall say that 
God has mocked our wretchedness by giving us an obscure 
revelation) ; I say, if the Bible be plain, nothing can be want- 
ing but a right state of heart to lead a man to understand it. 
This will lead him to read it and study it ; it will secure to its 
declarations the authority and the submission due to the voice 
of the living God ; it will wake up an anxiety to know and 
receive the truth, and furnish every advantage to understand 
it through a holy correspondence of feeling. In every point 
of view, therefore, a right state of heart tends to produce a 
right system of faith, and a wrong state of heart a wrong sys- 
tem of faith ; so much so, that — amid all the absurdities and 
contradictions, and cavils, and misrepresentations, which 
thicken in the path of the ungodly, and over which they 
stumble into perdition — a man with a right heart, and the 
Bible in his hand, will be surrounded with a light from heaven 
all the way to its blissful abodes. 

2. This state of mind, described in the text, decides the nature 
of all specific and subordinate aifections. M A good man out 
of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things, 
and the evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth 
forth evil things." It is the very nature and tendency of the 
predominant affection, the governing aim of the soul, to spread 
its influence over all the particular and subordinate aifections, 
desires, and purposes of man. To all these the predominant 
affection gives existence, and to all these it imparts moral 
quality. All the specific affections, purposes, and desires of a 
man, whose heart is fixed supremely on the world, will be 
worldly. And all these in a man whose heart is fixed on God, 
except so far as the weakness of the principle may prevent, 
will be godly. The commanding purpose, the governing aim, 



150 SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

of every man is the treasure of the heart — the source of all 
moral acts. It is the tree which produces the fruit, and de- 
cides its properties ; the fountain from which the streams pro- 
ceed. As the fountain is, so is the stream ; and as the tree is, 
so must be the fruit. 

More particularly, let a man supremely delight in God — let 
it be his governing aim to please him, and he will not only 
frequently contemplate the character of God, but every con- 
templation of him, whose attributes are infinitely glorious, will 
awaken love in the soul. The same state of mind must pro- 
duce gratitude to God ; for while it delights in his perfections, 
it must especially delight in the display of those perfections in 
acts of personal kindness. It will lead to the exercise of sub- 
mission and confidence ; for, as it delights supremely in the 
character of God, it will cheerfully commit all things to his 
disposal. It will prompt to humility; for, as it delights in 
God, it will delight to give him his high supremacy in the 
system of being. It will exercise repentance ; for sin is dis- 
honorable and offensive to God, whom it loves. It will exer- 
cise forgiveness ; for it will delight to imitate God, whom it 
loves. It will exercise benevolence ; for it supremely delights 
in God's glory, and to do good is to glorify God. In a word, 
as this state of mind supremely delights in God, and in his 
glory, and as obedience to the divine will is the means of 
pleasing and glorifying God, it tends to produce obedience to 
every command of God. It will choose to do what God has 
required, because in this way God is glorified, and the great 
end on which the heart is fixed is thus obtained. It will, 
therefore, make its subject alike the true worshiper of God 
before his throne, and the real almoner of his bounty in this 
world of sin and sorrow. Thus the whole assemblage of the 
Christian graces and virtues, as they adorn the soul and fill 
up the character of the good man, proceed from supreme love 
to God — from that single eye which is the governing aim of 
the man. 

On the contrary, let the heart be supremely fixed on the 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 151 

world — let the governing aim be to derive happiness from it, 
and all the affections, purposes and desires of man will be in 
exact accordance with his main purpose. It may manifest 
itself in the form of ambition or covetousness, or the love of 
ease and of pleasure — in any or in all those purposes, passions 
and desires which the love of the world occasions. It will 
produce, as the occasion of their excitement occurs, all those 
criminal feelings toward God and toward men which a selfish 
heart can cherish. What is distrust of God, but that selfish 
attachment to our own interests that refuses to commit them 
to his disposal ? What is ingratitude to God, but to value his 
gifts as the means of our own gratification, to the exclusion of 
all desire to honor our benefactor ? What is enmity to God, 
but hostility to the perfections of God as arrayed against our 
selfish interests? What is unkindness, envy and revenge as 
manifested toward our fellow-men, but the operations of a 
selfish desire to engross and secure worldly good ? Thus, look 
through the whole catalogue of those affections and passions 
which debase and deform human character, you will find their 
source in a worldly heart — a supreme desire of happiness from 
the world — selfishness — the source, sum and substance of all sin. 
True it is, that selfishness in one form may restrain selfishness 
in another. A selfish regard to reputation may restrain a 
selfish regard to wealth from open fraud or violence to acquire 
it. Still it is selfishness — be the form of its operation what it 
may. Ambition, unchecked by any other selfish passion, would 
wade through seas of blood to reach a throne, or rebel in 
heaven for the gloomy satisfaction of reigning in hell. Be the 
selfish affection what it may, unrestrained, it determines on its 
own gratification at every sacrifice. Be it sensuality, it would 
not relinquish a thrill of pleasure ; be it sloth, it would not 
move a finger to save a falling universe. Thus does the evil 
eye, the love of the world as the commanding principle, cor- 
rupt and degrade the whole inner man. 

But in the case we have supposed, where the heart is right 
with God — where it is supremely fixed on doing his will and 



152 SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

glorifying his name — there, the affections can have no low and 
unworthy aims. "When such an object engrosses the heart — 
an object so transcendently great and glorious — it inspires the 
soul with its own greatness and glory ; it assimilates it to itself 
and its likeness to God ; it rises above all that is sordid and 
groveling. Light and darkness cannot be in the same place 
at the same instant. God and mammon cannot reign in the 
same heart. And when the glory of God is the light of the 
soul, like the splendors of the sun, it extinguishes the lesser 
lights which glitter before a worldly mind. The Lord and 
Creator of the heart there fixes his throne, and all the affec- 
tions of the inner man bow to him as their supreme Lord. 

3. This state of heart will have the same influence on the 
external conduct. The man who has not the love of God in 
him may indeed be faultless in many points, but his conduct 
will be greatly deficient and erroneous in externals. He will 
do and he will neglect to do many things which it were im- 
possible should be done or neglected, did he carry with him 
a continual sense of God's presence. By his pleasures and 
amusements — by his worldly pursuits and eagerness in them — 
by neglecting his closet and other ordinances which bring him 
into contact with God — by his treatment of enemies — by habit- 
ually retaining some besetting sin — by the manner of yielding 
to temptation — by shunning the society of the godly, he will 
betray his real character. Though circumstances may occa- 
sion in the visible deportment an imposing semblance of reli- 
gion, yet let circumstances change, and out of such a " heart 
will proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, 
thefts, false witness, blasphemies." Many a heart which can 
now so smother its enmity to God as to appear with saintly 
devotion in his house, will, in a future world, speak out in 
blasphemy through eternity. 

But where the heart — the governing aim — is right, there is a 
principle which tends to bring every thing right. There may 
indeed be some occasional deviation ; but deviation will be an 
interruption in the general course of conduct. There will be 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 153 

a principle of correction within, which will discover, regret, 
and reform what is amiss. For the principle is a universal 
principle ; a supreme regard to God will lead to one duty 
as well as to another — to acts of kindness as well as to acts of 
devotion. It will resist and correct little sins as well as great 
sins ; for the same authority reaches to one as to the other, 
and that authority is God's. It is also a uniform principle. 
It allows of no intermission of duty — sanctions no neglect of 
duty — admits of no indulgence of a beloved sin. For the 
authority which controls the man is God's authority, and it is 
ceaseless and eternal like himself. It is a pure and holy prin- 
ciple. It tolerates no iniquity — no moral imperfections. It 
points to the highest purity ; it aims at God's perfect likeness. 
It will thus operate with a force ever right, and produce 
greater and greater measures of holiness in every part of the 
conduct. Conscience will become an active guardian, and 
control the man, by the smile or the frown of the Eternal. 
The soul will pant more and more after the purity and holiness 
of the regions of immortality, and the growing results will 
present the most interesting spectacle which earth affords — 
the progress of a corrupt, depraved soul rising toward its per- 
fection in the image of God — the transformation of an heir of 
hell into meetness for a celestial throne, at God's right hand. 

REMARKS. 

1. Those whose hearts are supremely devoted to the world, 
have reason to suspect that they embrace some serious practi- 
cal error. 

So painful is the light of divine truth to a worldly mind, 
when brought to pour its full luster on the conscience ; 
it so invades the internal quiet of the sinner, that he never 
suffers himself to come under its full power and pressure. He 
may be correct in faith, except in one single particular, and 
yet that single error effectually subserve the purpose of quiet- 
ing him in his sins. He may admit the doctrine of atonement, 



154 SINGLENESS OF HEART. 

and yet deny the depravity of the heart and the necessity of 
regeneration by the Holy Spirit ; or he may admit these, and 
deny the sovereignty of God in the work ; or he may admit 
this, and yet hold it with such qualifications and conditions as 
to impair all its power on the conscience ; and thus the very 
truth which he denies may be that, without the belief of which 
he never will be awakened, and with the belief of which he 
could not rest in sin another moment. " Every one that doeth 
evil, hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his 
deeds should be reproved." With the heart fixed on the 
world, still determined to live in sin, they are tempted to mis- 
represent to their own minds the truths of the gospel ; they 
are not willing to understand the plainest explanations of 
them, but are disposed to pervert them, to explain away their 
pungency, and to cavil and object against them. They know 
that they must do this, or yield to their power. They cannot 
bear to see their character and state, as God's revelation shows 
them. 

And, my hearers, let me now ask whether you have that 
evidence of the soundness of your views of divine truth which 
our subject presents? Have you that single eye, that com- 
manding purpose to glorify God, which is so essential to 
just views of the truths of the gospel? Can you lay your 
hand on your heart and say, that with an honest purpose to 
renounce the world and to devote yourself to God, you have 
sought to know the truth as it is in Jesus ? One grand design 
of the gospel is to disquiet and alarm the sinner, to make his 
heart meditate terror while he goes on in his iniquity. Now, 
can you say that you have been willing that these truths 
should come in and lie on your conscience, and give you that 
anxiety and distress which they ought to give you ? Can you 
say, that you thus bared your guilty bosom to these arrows of 
the Almighty ? Can you say, that you are willing to see your 
situation as one on the very brink of damnation, and that you 
have welcomed and courted the influence of that truth of God 
which made you feel it ? If not, you are the man from whom 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 155 

cavils and objections are to be expected. Your heart is not 
right. You are not willing to see and to understand. You 
have that evil eye — that perverted and obscured vision which 
conducts thousands in darkness, to blackness of darkness for- 
ever. You are not willing to receive the truth in the love of 
it that you might be saved ; and for this cause God shall send 
you strong delusion, that you should believe a lie — that you 
may be damned. 

2. Our subject shows us the substantial difference between 
the saint and the sinner, and how great that difference. 

This difference does not consist in this, that the saint never 
sins, while the sinner does nothing but sin. The saint does sin. 
It does not consist in this, that the sinner does not as well as 
the saint perform some actions which in their external form 
are right. He does. The difference lies in moral character — 
in their different practical estimate of things and governing 
aim. One has that single eye, that practical estimate of God 
and the world, which fixes his heart on God as his portion, and 
which in its true tendency governs the general course of his 
affections and conduct, and consecrates the whole man to his 
service. The other has that evil eye, that practical estimate 
of things which fixes his heart on the world as his portion, and 
gives him over to the complete dominion of selfishness, in all 
his affections and conduct. Notwithstanding, therefore, the 
imperfections of the saints, there is in moral character a 
substantial difference between saints and sinners. This dif- 
ference is in fact great, like the difference in the object 
of their supreme affection. Through time and through eter- 
nity this difference will increase. The sins and imperfections 
of the one will diminish and disappear ; the commanding 
purpose of the soul will form and mold it into the perfect 
likeness of God, and he shall stand in glory in the heavens. 
The depravity and guilt of the other will augment and 
heighten — the controlling purpose will seal him an heir of 
hell, and break out in the rage and blasphemy of the damned. 

This difference of character carries a dividing line through 



156 SINGLENESS OP HEART. 

this assembly. It as truly exists, in this house, between those 
who are here before God's mercy-seat, as between Paul in 
glory and Judas in the pit. It will widen, and still widen, till 
one will sit down a glorified celestial by the throne of God, 
and another enter into fellowship with the devil and his 
angels. As your heart is supremely fixed on God or on the 
world, you will be admitted into heaven or turned into hell. 
Which, then, do you love most — God or the world ? Decide 
the question now at the bar of conscience, for it will soon 
come up at that dread tribunal that will award to you your 
everlasting habitation. 

3. Our subject shows the necessity of maintaining a right 
state of heart. 

How many, it is to be feared, who pay some attention to 
religion, perhaps profess it, and express a high respect for 
it, who, after all, are strangers to its vital energy. They 
dread a judgment to come, they are afraid of God's indigna- 
tion, they would appease his displeasure by outward forms, 
and by abstinence from gross vice. But where is the heart ? 
Alas ! it is as worldly as ever. Theirs is a religion of 
constraint — they are alive to the world — they are cold and 
lifeless for God and his glory. The influence of religion is 
occasional, transitory, imperfect, painful — the influence of 
worldly affections, constant, uniform, powerful, pleasant. 
And, my brethren, how plain is it, that here can be no re- 
ligion — how plain is it, that the heart must be right ! If we 
do not keep up a just practical estimate of God and the world 
as our portion — if, to secure and make safe our interests here, 
be our commanding object — if our greatest concern be not to 
glorify God, we had better bid farewell to our religion, and 
begin anew. There can be no religion without this command- 
ing, controlling purpose in the soul — none acceptable to God — 
none profitable to ourselves. "As a man thinketh in his heart, 
so is he." If the heart be right, all is right ; if the heart be 
wrong, all is wrong. As we value the religion we profess — as 
we prize its hopes, its consolations, its joys, its prospects, its 



SINGLENESS OF HEART. 157 

rewards — let us keep our hearts in the love of God. Let us 
often bring up in contrast the love, and favor and glory of 
God as the portion of the soul, with what this ensnaring, 
tempting, soul-destroying world can give us — let us judge of 
the worth of each, with an eternal purpose to act as we judge 
— let the question be settled once for all, which is the best 
portion for the immortal spirit within — let the eye be single, 
that thus we may see things as they are, as God sees them — 
let the world fade away into its true insignificance, and God 
and eternal realities occupy our vision. Then shall we live 
under the light of God's countenance — then shall this sure 
word of God be a lamp unto our feet, and a light unto our 
path — then shall we not stumble on the dark mountains ; but, 
guided by a pillar of fire, shall tread our cheerful way to that 
better country, even an heavenly. " Keep thy heart with all 
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." 

4. Our subject shows those who are destitute of true reli- 
gion, what they must do to obtain it. 

They must settle it with themselves that their false views 
of the world must be corrected, and their hearts taken 
from it and be fixed on God. Cost what it may, this must 
be done. Religion consists in becoming a servant of God. 
You are now living for yourself, for the world. You walk 
in darkness, and are stumbling at noonday — you are hazard- 
ing your eternal banishment from God, amid all the en- 
treaties of his love, and quietly speeding your infatuated 
way to the fires of the pit — for what ? For what this world 
can give you. In this state, religion is impracticable. You 
must open your eyes upon such madness ; you must put 
God, and heaven, and Christ, and eternal life, by the side 
of the world, and guilt, and death, and hell, and look at 
them till you can see the difference ; and thus you must 
resolve to renounce one, and take the other for your por- 
tion. You must resolve to obey God, and to glorify him, let 
the sacrifice be what it may ; interest, ease, honor, wealth, 
pleasure, all must be given up to this object. Will you make 



158 SINGLENESS OP HEART. 

the resolve? Will you part with all for Christ, your Ee- 
deemer? Will you thus enthrone a sovereign God in your 
heart ? Do this, and the work is done. Will you do it ? It 
is not a vain thing — it is for your life. Tour all is at stake. 
God requires it. The Saviour calls you to do it. The Holy 
Ghost urges you to do it. Conscience forces you to do it. 
Heaven, with its raptures and songs, invites you to do it. 
Hell, with its smoke and torments, warns you to do it ; and 
you must, you must be decided. 

" Tour way is dark and leads to hell ; 
Why will you persevere ? 
Can you in endless torments dwell, 
Shut up in black despair ?" 



XII. 

PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

Psalm xiv. 1. 
" The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God." 

This is God's world ; and yet how godless ! God made it, 
and the men in it, and yet " in all their thoughts, God is not." 
Thus saith the context : " The Lord looked down from heaven 
upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did 
understand, that did seek after God. They are all gone aside ; 
they are altogether become nlthy ; there is none that doeth 
good, no, not one." 

The origin of this awful alienation from God, this practical 
denial of his being and perfections, is traced to the heart, and 
the subject of it pronounced a fool. "The fool hath said in 
his heart, There is no God." That is, the language of his 
heart, its moral state and feelings, are substantially what they 
would be were there no God. Such he wishes the fact to be, 
and such, so far as any practical influence of the fact is con- 
cerned, the fact to him actually is. 

I propose — 

First, To inquire to whom this charge may be applied ; 

Second, To show their folly. 

I. To whom does this charge apply ? 

1. To the avowed atheist. 

He who can overlook the proofs of the divine existence 
which are scattered throughout the visible creation — who can 
ascribe all he beholds to accident or chance — who can look up 
with complacency to a vacant heaven and down to the grave 



160 PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

of annihilation, can neither love nor fear the Being whose 
existence he denies. His heart denies it. 

2. The charge applies to those who entertain false views of 
the character of God. 

It is one thing to profess to believe there is a God, and 
another to believe that he is what he is. Many there are who 
would not deny the divine existence, who yet do deny the 
divine character. They deny that he is the righteous gover- 
nor of the moral world. Their language is, either that he is 
indifferent to the actions of men, or that he is too merciful to 
punish any of his creatures. But to believe in a God who will 
make no discrimination between characters — who regards the 
holy and unholy with equal approbation — who will dispense 
no future rewards or punishments, is substantially the same 
thing as to say, There is no God. The belief in such a being 
is no more a belief in God than the belief in a heathen idol 
would be. The character of God, as the holy, holy, holy Lord 
God Almighty — that character which constitutes his glory 
and the only ground of love, reverence, or confidence, is de- 
nied — denied because it is disliked — because the control of 
such a God is hated, and his inspection dreaded. Instead of 
the just Sovereign maintaining law, the Being who reigns, is 
the friend and patron of iniquity. There is, what the heart 
desires, no God. 

3. The charge applies to those who deny or disregard the 
providential government of God. 

The Scriptures clearly teach — what is, indeed, the dictate of 
sound philosophy — that God is everywhere present to super- 
intend and control all the events of this, and of all worlds. 
From this government of God result many of the duties of 
man — gratitude, submission, confidence, prayer. Tie, there- 
fore, who under the constant reception of blessings is ungrate- 
ful — he who under trials is unsubmissive — he who, under all 
the varying dispensations of divine Providence, refuses to 
commit himself, his all, to the control of the supreme Disposer 
of events — lives without God in the world. His heart would 



PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 161 

not be more entirely unoccupied with those affections and 
emotions, which are due to God, than it is, were the gifts of his 
bounty and the dispensations of his providence the result of 
some well constructed machinery, or of mere accident. 

4. This charge applies to those who supremely love the 
world. 

What does sound reason pronounce concerning the man 
who is surrounded by the presence of the supreme Jehovah, 
and invited and urged to choose him as the portion of his 
soul ; who can suffer his thoughts to wander to every other 
object except that great Being; who, when called to love the 
Being whose glories absorb the spirits of heaven, and stand in 
the very sanctuary of his presence, can yield his thoughts and 
affections only to an endless series of trifles ? Is this treating 
God as he ought to be treated; or is it saying in the heart, 
"There is no God?" 

5. This charge applies to the man who has no delight in the 
worship of God. 

Were there any thing to suit our tastes, we would love his 
presence. Were we at all sensible of his majesty and glory, 
we would delight to adore him. Were we grateful for his 
favors, we would gladly render our tribute of thanksgiving. 
Were we conscious of our dependence for every blessing, in 
time and eternity, we would rejoice to commit ourselves — our 
all — to his care and disposal. They, therefore, who neglect 
these duties, who shun every place where God appoints to 
meet them, who never approach his mercy-seat, in his house, 
in the family, or in the closet, act the part of atheism. They 
act precisely the part which all men would act, under the per- 
suasion that there is no invisible being on whom they are de- 
pendent, and from whom they have any thing to hope or to 
fear. They say in their heart, " There is no God:" nor could 
they say it in plainer language. 

6. The same charge lies against those who live in disobe- 
dience to any of God's commandments. 

Throughout the intelligent creation, God ought to be ac- 

11 



162 PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

knowledged and treated as God. But to treat him, as God, im- 
plies that we honor him with a supreme regard — that his author- 
ity is decisive with us, and that his will is our only law. He, 
therefore, who refuses unqualified obedience, acts upon a prin- 
ciple which subverts the sovereignty of God, impugns his right 
of legislation, and which would introduce into the world all 
anarchy and woe, which the supreme dominion of God only 
can prevent. In what way, let me ask, can any man show 
that he wishes there were no God, or that he feels that there 
is none, more decisively, than by thus rebelling against him 
upon principle ? They may profess to know God, but in 
works they deny him. They virtually exclude God from his 
moral kingdom — disclaim his sovereign power — explode his 
laws, by denying his existence, and contemptuously demand, 
" Who is Lord over us ?" 

7. This charge applies to all who reject the gospel. 

Here, the character of God is displayed in its glory. In the 
cross of Christ, he reveals alike his justice and his mercy. 
Here, he appears the determined avenger of sin. Here, he 
makes known the way of salvation. Here, he reveals his 
promises, and here, denounces the terrors of his wrath. Here, 
he unfolds the rich provision made for the souls of men, and 
by commands, entreaties, and warnings urges their acceptance. 
And what is the effect of it all upon the unbeliever? By his 
stupidity in sin, he despises alike the justice and the mercy of 
God. By his unbelief, he makes God a liar. By his perse- 
verance in sin, he sets at naught the whole work of redemp- 
tion, renounces God's authority over him, tramples under feet 
the Son of God, counts " the blood of the covenant an unholy 
thing," and does " despite unto the Spirit of grace." What 
more could the avowed atheist do ? What more, than to dis- 
regard this whole gospel — its displays of Deity, its miracles, 
its Messiah, its authority of moral legislation, its regions of 
immortality and retribution ? Plainly, every such man prac- 
tically says, there is no gospel — no Saviour — no heaven — no 
hell — no God. 



PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 163 

I might proceed to specify other characteristics of those 
to whom the charge in the text applies. These, however, 
which I have specified, are sufficiently comprehensive to in- 
clude all whose feelings and conduct do not accord with the 
character of the living God, and the relation which he sustains 
to man — all who are justly accounted practical atheists. 

I proceed — 

II. To show their folly, which appears from the following 
considerations : 

1. There may be a God. 

No human mind can know that there is not. No man, 
unless he himself is omnipresent and omniscient, can know 
that there is not some other being to whom these attri- 
butes belong. If he does not know every being in the 
universe, that being may be God. If he does not know 
all truth, that truth, which he does not know, may be, that 
there is a God. If he does not know the cause of all ex- 
istence — if he cannot, with perfect knowledge, assign the 
cause of his own existence, or of the world around him, that 
cause may be God. If there is no God, no danger is encoun- 
tered — no loss sustained — by believing that there is one ; there 
is real gain. But, if there may he a God, who can measure 
the folly of firmly denying his being, and all that system of 
truth which it involves, and acting accordingly? The specu- 
lative and practical atheist is undone. There may he such a 
God as the Bible reveals. The bare statement of the case 
makes the reflective mind shrink back with horror from the 
thought. To deny the being of a God, when there may he 
one ; to live in this world as if there were no God ; and en- 
ter eternity, there to have, for the first time, the full conviction, 
by meeting the awful reality ! 

2. The folly of such a person is still greater, because his be- 
lief is contrary to the fullest evidence. 

" The heavens declare the glory of God ; and the firmament 
showeth his handy work." " The invisible things of him from 
the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood 



164: PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

by the things that are made, even his eternal power and God- 
head." But he who lives as if there were no God, shuts his 
eyes and stops his ears. He will neither see displays of the 
glory, nor hear the Voice of the Most High. He lives in the 
midst of God's works, but will not notice the effects of his 
power. He is sustained by his bounty, but will not regard 
his gifts. In every work of human art, he knows an artificer 
has been employed; but in the infinitely greater and more 
wonderful works of God, he sees no trace of wisdom or of 
power. When he beholds a fellow-being performing rational 
actions, he doubts not that that being possesses a rational soul. 
But when God displays his wisdom, his goodness and his 
power, in the rolling systems above him, and in every blade 
of grass beneath his feet — in the wonderful structure not less 
than the wonderful functions of his body ; when his soul, in its 
faculties and operations, bespeaks itself an emanation of Deity 
— when God pervades the universe by an energy which can 
be none but God's, still man can shut his eyes on God and 
ascribe all that he beholds to chance or fate. Yea, he can 
confess with his mouth, there is a God, and say in his heart, 
there is none. Thousands clo confess, that they live every 
moment in the presence and under the eye of that infinite 
Being — that they have no less proof of his existence and char- 
acter than of those of their fellow-men, or even of their own — 
that they live, and move, and have their being in God, and 
yet are as free from all marks or traces of his influence on 
their hearts as if that God were a fiction. If to act contrary 
to evidence in the smallest matters is folly, what is it to be 
surrounded with the proofs of God's existence — to acknowl- 
edge that there is an almighty Being pervading all things by 
his presence, and yet live and act as if heaven, and earth, and 
hell were little else than empty space ? 

3. They who thus practically live without God in the world, 
deprive themselves of all real good. 

Without faith — practical faith — in God, there can be no ra- 
tional enjoyment of the world — no true excellence of character 






PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 165 

— no comfort in affliction — no peace in death — no happiness in 
eternity. 

There can be no rational enjoyment of the world. Take 
God away, and every thing around us is the effect of the 
coercion of fate or the sport of chance. All, which now gives 
the highest value to earthly happiness and renders it chiefly 
worthy of the enjoyment of rational beings, is at an end. 
True, man may enjoy food, and raiment, and rest, as an ani- 
mal, but to enjoy earthly good with thanksgiving to a divine 
Benefactor — to enjoy it, with the hope of its continuance, be- 
cause he is the object of the kindness of one able to provide 
for his wants — to enjoy it, as the means to an end of still 
greater value — the means of increasing conformity to the will 
of God, of glorifying his name and advancing in meetness for 
his eternal presence — were truly preposterous, to one who lives 
without God. Though blest with the richest earthly joys, he 
is a stranger to every emotion which elevates these pleasures 
above the sensations of the brute. What, to him, is accidental 
or necessary, comes and goes he knows not how, and therefore, 
cheerless and hopeless, is, to the real Christian, directed by the 
infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, of the Creator, and 
therefore full of expectation, of gratitude, and of comfort. 
With every gift, there is a giver, ready still to befriend, pro- 
tect, and bless. To the one, there is nothing but animal sen- 
sation ; to the other — besides his comforts and with his com- 
forts — there is a God. 

Without the practical belief that there is a God, there can 
be no true excellence of character. Every such man places 
himself beyond the reach of every motive which ennobles the 
human character, and raises man to the end of his being. 

God originally made man in his own image. To restore 
him to that image, he revealed himself, as the model for imi- 
tation and the reward for conformity to his will. In God is 
all that can produce in man this transformation and dignity. 
Without God there is no rule of action, no accountability, no 
futurity, no retribution, no influence to operate on man — to 



166 PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

rescue him from the thraldom of sense, and elevate him above 
one whose origin and whose end is dust. All that influence 
which gives angels their dignity, makes saints their meet com- 
panions, and prepares both for fellowship with the God of 
eternity, must be unfelt. "What, then, is the infatuation of 
one who voluntarily places himself beyond an influence so 
divine ; who, qualified to rise to the dignity and joys of angels, 
invited and urged to become like his God, by all his own 
glories and all his capacity to bless, sinks himself to a level 
with the beasts that perish, by a willful practical denial that 
there is a God ! 

But such a man not only sinks to the lowest point of mean- 
ness, but to the lowest degradation of guilt. Uninfluenced by 
what there is in God, in his character, his law, or his govern • 
ment, he is, and must be, a supremely selfish being. To seek 
and to obtain, at any sacrifice, what is desired, is the very 
nature of selfishness. In this world, it is true, the spirit is 
often concealed in its true nature and tendency. But take off 
the garb ; let the real selfish heart be uncovered ; let it be seen 
in its desires, its affections, wishes, purposes, plans, and actions 
— its insensibility to others' wants and others' woes — its de- 
ceptions, frauds — its prostration of all good — its production of 
all evil — and we abhor it. It arms its subject with the spirit 
of an infernal, against God and man, and is the legitimate 
cause of all the groans, and miseries, and blood, of earth — 
yea, of all the agonies of the pit. It is the very character of 
the damned, and the fire which inflicts their torments. It is 
true meetness for that place of blasphemy, lamentation, and 
woe. Yet such is the real character of all who live with- 
out God. Originally destined to the high and refined enjoy- 
ment of conscious rectitude — to the purity and dignity of 
angels — to bear the image of God, he is sunk to the moral 
level of the devil and his associates. Oh, how fallen — how 
fallen is the man who disclaims the dominion of his God ! 

Such a man has no support under affliction — no peace in 
death. Amid all the changes, and disappointments, and sor- 



PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 167 

rows around us, the idea of a God on whom we rest, and to 
whom we may look with hope, is so welcome, that it would 
seem as if we should be constrained to admit it, from the 
necessity of something to comfort and sustain us, under our 
calamities and our weakness. For such a support we look in 
vain to our fellow-beings, or to the created universe. The 
wounded spirit can only be consoled by him who made it. 
Take but God away, and where — ye who are sorrowful and 
afflicted — where — under the loss of friends, and property, and 
health — where is your refuge ? Forsaken of its God, what a 
scene does this world present ! The mighty vision around us 
is converted into a feverish dream — a dark, troubled, confused 
theater of tears and wailing, where chance sports with our 
joys, and unfeeling fate crushes us under calamities. In a 
fatherless world man must sit down in the desolation of grief, 
with no arm to sustain, no ray of hope to comfort him. 

But how is the darkness dispelled and the region cheered, 
by the visible presence of an all-perfect God — a God who 
offers himself to us as our reconciled Father, pledging all his 
attributes for our security, our support, and our happiness! 
What can measure the folly of the man who voluntarily fore- 
goes this blessed relation to his Maker — who, to be happy in 
this world, says "in his heart, There is no God ?" 

And what is his support on the bed of death? Does he meet 
it with no misgivings of unbelief — with no unquiet suspicions, 
that there is a God? Be it so. He is dying. Physicians have 
given him over. The tears and sighs of friends are useless. 
He feels the shivering of death's cold hand. And what is 
his relief ? What his prospects? Does he rest on the bosom 
of mercy? There is none to show mercy. Does he look to 
heaven with hope? There is no heaven. His consolation is, 
that his body is sinking into the grave, to become the food of 
worms, and that his soul is trembling into the eternal night of 
annihilation. Oh, give me the delusion— if it be a delusion — 
of hope in God, of an anticipated heaven, when I die ! 

But even this hope of impunity from non-existence, after 



168 PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

death, is seldom realized by the (mowed atheist. He may have 
lived an infidel, but, for the most part, he dies a terrified be- 
liever. How must he feel, when death comes, who admits that 
there is a God, and yet that he has lived as if there were none? 
He has been content to forego every connection with the Al- 
mighty, except that of danger; and now the moment of danger 
is come. "No sooner shall that dying body expire, than his 
sonl — he knows its destiny — shall meet an angry God on the 
throne of final judgment. Heaven, that immortal mansion of 
glory, he sees shut against him. Hell is already opening un- 
der his feet ; and with some foretaste of its horrors, he dies. 
And where is he? Oh, who can think of the triumphant 
death of the believer, exclaiming, "O death, where is thy 
sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ?" — " But thanks he to 
God, who giveth us the victory." — " For I know whom I have 
believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which 
I have committed unto him against that day" — and not see 
the folly, the madness, of living without God, and without 
hope in the world ? 

But their measure of folly is not yet unfolded; nor can it be. 
Eternity will soon open, with all its dread realities. A God 
they would not have on earth ; but a God they now must have 
to all eternity. A God, in the riches of his mercy, they would 
not have. A God, in the greatness of his wrath, they now 
must have. A God whom they could contemn, amid all that 
he displayed to excite their fear and love, shall now appear in 
the overwhelming storms of his vengeance. A God — the view 
of whose love and mercy, a few particles of dust could inter- 
cept, — shall ever be present with them, in the fierceness of his 
anger. On earth, they could say, " There is no God." JSTow, 
in the torments of hell, they learn, and feel, and confess there 
is a God. How, then, must appear the folly of having lived 
as if there were no God ! How, when- they shall comprehend 
the whole measure and depth of this calamity, in feeling the 
unabated wrath of an unchangeable God ! 

To conclude, my dear hearers, how many, as you reflect on 



PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 169 

this discourse, are constrained to confess, that you have lived, 
to this hour, without God? True, it may be — I trust it is — 
that there are none who openly deny the divine existence. 
True, it may be, that your speculative belief in God has im- 
posed some restraints upon your depravity. But, is it not 
equally true, that, as it respects every right feeling toward 
God — as it respects that general course of conduct, which de- 
cides character, that you have lived to this hour, substantially 
as you would have done, had you known that there were no 
God ? Is it not true, and must you not confess, that you are 
as clear from this influence : as far from being what a true 
practical belief, in the being of a God, would have made you, 
as if you had no suspicion of his existence? Ah, my hearers, 
your unfounded hopes of his mercy — your ingratitude and 
discontent under the dispensations of his providence — your 
love of the world — your aversion to his worship — your con- 
tempt of his authority, and rejection of his Son — answer 
these questions. They must answer them to your own con- 
viction. 

And, unless it be true, either that there is no God — or no 
glory in being assimilated to his excellence — no happiness in 
friendship with the Almighty — no eternal rewards for his de- 
voted servants — no danger in meeting a God, whose being and 
character you have practically disowned, what madness marks 
your course ! You live only for the pleasures of a worldly 
life. The thought of God would have disturbed your peace, 
and poisoned your pleasures ; and, therefore, you have ex- 
cluded it. You knew, indeed, that you were in the hands of 
him, from whose power there is no escape; but you have 
sought no acquaintance with his nature, and inquired not 
what conduct should be observed toward him, or what expec- 
tations be entertained from him. Surely, you would have 
been alarmed, to have been placed thus, in the power of a 
mysterious stranger of your own species. But let that stranger 
be the almighty God, and you cared no more. For such a 
being, you have had neither fear nor love. "With him, you 
Vol T._8 



170 PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 

have desired no intercourse — with him, you have had no con- 
cern. As it respects jour feelings, your conduct, and your 
character, there has been no God in heaven, earth, or hell. 

But, if there may he a God — if there is a God — what are 
you now? What are your expectations from that world, where 
you must shortly meet him ? Oh, my dear hearers, is it noth- 
ing to you, that you voluntarily renounce your own interests, 
for time and eternity ? Nothing, that you degrade yourselves 
to the lowest point of meanness and guilt in the sight of all 
holy beings ? Is it nothing to you, that you may rise and dwell 
forever with angels and the redeemed, in the blissful presence 
of God and the Lamb ? Is it nothing, that under all the trials 
and afflictions of this life, you have no refuge, no support — 
that in death, you have no relief from the anticipated horrors 
of hell — that you have no certain respite, no, not for a mo- 
ment, from the full experience of its woes — that you stand 
on that fearful brink, where the slightest agitation will plunge 
you beyond the reach of mercy — that eternity is ready to 
open npon you, and the God of eternity to become the avenger 
of your contempt of himself and of his Son ? 






XIII. 

SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

Jonx iii. 20. 

" For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest 
his deeds should he reproved." 

Were men willing to see, the works of Gocl would afford a 
clear manifestation of his character. " For the invisible things 
of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being 
understood by the things that are made, even his eternal 
power and Godhead." Doubtless our first parents, before the 
apostasy, beheld a present God in every thing around them ; 
nor could they open their eyes on the displays of his eternal 
power and Godhead without being constrained to love and 
adore. The very heathen are pronounced by the apostle to 
be " without excuse ; because that, when they knew God, they 
glorified him not as God." The same light still shines through 
the whole system of nature as at the beginning. " The heav- 
ens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his 
handy work." 

Notwithstanding all this light, there was no just and profit- 
able knowledge of God; the world was still enveloped in 
moral darkness. " The world by wisdom knew not God." 

Hence, for the instruction of an ignorant and degraded race, 
the goodness of God hath bestowed a special revelation on the 
world. 

As the author of this revelation, Jesus Christ saith of him- 
self, " I am the light of the world ;" and again, " I am come a 
light into the world." The term light is often applied to the 



172 SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

source of light. Thus God is said to have " made two great 
lights ; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light 
to rule the night." In this sense Jesus Christ is said to be the 
light of the world ; the sun, that greater light, whence pro- 
ceeds all that light w T hich surrounds us. 

By the light referred to in the text, we are to understand the 
instruction imparted to us by the Lord Jesus Christ through 
his gospel — all that truth which by this revelation is made 
known to man. This revelation unfolds to us the glory of 
God, the beauty of holiness, the evil of sin, and the reality and 
weight of eternal and invisible things. This is the light which 
reveals the secrets of the heart, and discovers man to himself 
as a guilty, condemned, lost sinner. It is this that makes 
known the method in which rebels may be reconciled to their 
offended sovereign, and which exhibits an all-sufficient Saviour 
to perishing sinners. This is that day-spring from on high 
which hath visited us — that light from heaven which beams 
on our every path ; and if any of us are ignorant of the dis- 
coveries which it makes to us, it is because we love darkness 
rather than light. 

" Every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to 
the light." By coming to the light, we are to understand that 
steady, fixed attention to the truths of the gospel, which shall 
give them their proper influence on the mind. So long as 
there is not that clear and correct and fixed apprehension of 
the truths of the gospel which is necessary to give effect to 
those truths — so long as the mind either disbelieves or doubts 
them — so long as the mind is fixed exclusively on other objects 
— so long as they are perverted, or in any degree misappre- 
hended — in a word, so long as a combined whole, the direct 
bearing of the truths of God upon himself is not seen — so long 
as man refuses thus to look at them with solemn and fixed 
attention, so long he refuses to come to the light. 

It may be true, that by instruction and study, men may have 
an extensive acquaintance with the Scriptures, and on all spec- 
ulative points of doctrine they may be thoroughly orthodox ; 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 173 

they may even feel, in some degree, the power of divine trnth 
on the conscience, and, at times, find it difficult to resist its 
fullest energy, and yet not come to the light in the sense of 
the text. Notwithstanding the full conviction of the under- 
standing, thev are not willing- so to look at the truths which 
they believe ?s to give them a chance to operate upon the 
mind and conscience, in their full and unresisted power. They 
are not willing to come and stand naked, unshielded and un- 
protected, before those truths of God, which show them their 
real character and condition as sinners against him. Some are 
willing to go further than others. When the sinner is awak- 
ened in some degree to a sense of his danger, he is willing to 
look at some truths ; but when the light, as he opens the 
avenues of the mind to its approach, begins to penetrate the 
dark recesses of sin, when it beams in upon all his refuges of 
lies, and shows him how vain they are, when the whole truth 
begins to tell on his conscience, and he sees that it will break 
down all his self-dependence, and scatter all his hopes to the 
winds, then he resists, then he strives to shut out the hated 
light ; then he refuses to know the worst of his case ; then he 
cannot bear to look at himself, at his character and condition, 
as seen in the light of eternal truth. 

The reason is assigned in the text, " lest his deeds should be 
reproved" — i. e. lest they be convinced of their guilt — lest, by 
seeing their condition as sinners, they should feel it. What- 
ever high conceits they may have of themselves — whatever 
hopes they may indulge of the favor of God — whatever schemes 
they may form of future repentance to quiet them in sin, they 
ever have a secret suspicion that the light would make some 
terrible discoveries. They dare not, therefore, trust themselves 
in the light, lest this secret suspicion should rise into an over- 
whelming conviction. It is so palpably evident that they are 
transgressors of the law of God, and are under its righteous 
condemnation — that they are unholy and unlit for heaven; 
their conscience gives such decisive testimony to these facts, 
that they dare not come to a fair and open trial by the light of 



174: SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

God's truth, lest sentence should go against them. They may 
be willing to hear some truth ; bnt to look at the whole truth 
— to admit that humbling, alarming exhibition which would 
lay open all their guilt and all their danger — would be more 
than they could withstand. Hence they shut their eyes upon 
the light that would flash the painful conviction upon them. 
Plow can they bear to open their eyes and see nothing but the 
fearful curse of almighty God upon them ? " They hate the 
light, neither come to the light, lest their deeds should be re- 
proved." 

Having thus explained the truth in the text, I shall attempt 
to make it manifest to your consciences. "We cannot, indeed, 
make the assertion in the text stronger than God has made 
it ; but we may lead you, my hearers, to view more closely 
and distinctly the state of your own minds than you have, 
ever done, and to find that there is an exact agreement be- 
tween what God says of it and what you yourselves find it 
to be. 

For this purpose, I remark — 

I. That the truths of God, which respect the sinner, are, so 
far as the nature and circumstances of them are concerned, as 
easily seen and felt as any other. It is as easy to believe that 
there is a God, as to believe in the existence of a fellow-crea- 
ture. The body is not the man, but the souL And there is 
not a thousandth part of the evidence, that there is a spirit — a 
thinking, voluntary, active spirit — which animates the body of 
a fellow- creature, which there is, that there is an Almighty 
intelligent spirit which pervades, and sustains, and moves the 
universe around you. The evidence in the one case is as much 
greater than it is in the other, as the acts of God, which fall 
under your inspection, are more numerous than those of an 
individual fellow-man. Do the acts of the speaker evince, to 
your full apprehension, his being ? And did you never hear 
God in the thunder, or see him in the lightning ? Were you 
now to feel the tremblings of an earthquake, were the earth 
now reeling to and fro like a drunken man, were these walls, 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 175 

these pillars shaking — would you not realize that there is a 
God ? Oh, how you would cry for his mercy ! 

Again : why do you expect injury from a fellow-man, who 
is your avowed and determined enemy, and threatens to injure 
you? Is it because he avows his purpose to injure, and be- 
cause he has by direct action injured others in the same cir- 
cumstances. But have you any such evidence in this case, as 
you have that God is angry with the wicked — that he will pour 
out his wrath upon his impenitent enemies ? Have you not 
the acknowledged declarations of the immutable God ? De- 
clarations, too, confirmed by the very acts of God, not only in 
every age, but every day ? Can the declarations and acts of a 
weak, changeable worm of the dust furnish stronger proof of 
what he will do, than the declarations and acts of the infal- 
lible, almighty, and unchangeable God furnish of what he will 
do ? But let a fellow-man prove to you that he is determined 
to take your life, would you not think of it, would you not 
feel it, would not this come home to your mind, and fix your 
thoughts? Why, then, is the sentence of death and present 
condemnation pronounced by the infinite God unthought of 
and unfelt? Why does not truth, like this, arrest and chain 
your thoughts ? Why do you not come to the light ? Because 
you hate the light ; because this truth would alarm your fears, 
dampen your pleasures, and check your pursuits ; because it 
would at once overturn and demolish all your towering hopes 
of earthly bliss, and set the terrors of guilt, and of God, in 
array against you. To this it is too painful to submit. I ap- 
peal to your own conscience — is it not even so? 

I remark — 

II. The mind cannot turn away from divine truth without 
choosing to do it. The mind is voluntary in fixing its thoughts, 
and fixes the thoughts on what objects it pleases. It is true, 
indeed, that thoughts occur to the mind without choice, but 
the mind does not fix and dwell on objects of thought, or turn 
away from them without choosing to do so. For example, 
you set before the mind of the drunkard the fatal and inevit- 



176 SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

able consequences of his habits, to himself and to his family. 
He sees and knows that what you say is truth ; but it is utterly 
ineffectual to divert him from this way to hell. Why ? Be- 
cause he does not keep his thoughts steadily fixed on the ruin 
that awaits him. And why does he not ? Because he does 
not choose to do it. So, precisely, does " every one who doeth 
evil, refuse to come to the light." When the truths of God, 
which respect him as a sinner, are presented, he turns away 
from them. He may reason about them, understand them in- 
tellectually, admit them into his creed ; but he does not look 
at them in their direct and awful bearing upon himself. And 
why ? — why, when truths so momentous, truths so certain, 
truths as easily made the object of fixed meditation as any 
other — why are they not looked at with fixed attention? Why 
are the thoughts turned away to the trifles of sight and sense? 
Yea, how can he turn away his thoughts from things like these 
unless he chooses to clo it ? Is there any thing in the light 
which beams on the senses from the objects of sense, which 
must, of necessity, absolutely overpower and extinguish the 
light which shines upon him from heaven ? Here — to bring 
the question to the tribunal of your own conscience — here, we 
present to your mind, the living God angry with the wicked, 
denouncing death eternal against you — we show you yourself 
under condemnation — we offer a Saviour able to save to the 
uttermost ; and now can you turn your thoughts from these 
things, without choosing to do it? Will not your thoughts 
actually fix and fasten upon these things, unless you choose to 
fix them on something else ? Why do you turn away from these 
truths of God — why refuse to come to the light ? Because you 
know your deeds will be reproved ; because you know that if 
you look at them steadily, you will be under conviction. 

III. The artifices often resorted to, to hide the truth — to turn 
its force and resist its pressure — evince the same thing. Here 
is an extended list ; probably there is not an individual pres- 
ent who has not resorted to some one or more of them. Let 
us examine some of them. 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 177 

One is infidelity. Now, in respect to the infidel, there are 
two points to be decided. Is his conviction real ? and if so, 
is it the result of patient and candid inquiry ? Whether there 
was ever an enlightened and yet an honest infidel, is easily 
decided. The confessions, and groans, and agonies of Yoltaire, 
and Hume, and Paine — their cries for the mercy of that Saviour 
whom they denied — on the bed of death, settle this question, 
and tell us why they denied the Son of God. If there then be 
any such creature as a real infidel, it is because he has not ex- 
amined the truth. And why has he not ? Why has he refused 
to search and see whether these things are so? The only 
answer is, he hates the light ; and therefore, with the laugh, 
and sneers, and railleries, and sophisms, which malicious in- 
genuity can invent, he refuses to give a fair hearing to a mes- 
sage from his God. 

Another artifice is found in the excuses offered for disobedi- 
ence to the commands of God, and neglecting the concerns of 
the soul. It is not our purpose to enumerate these excuses. 
It is enough to ask, is it actually so ? Is there a single real 
substantial excuse for disobeying the known commands of the 
living God for a moment ? Is there really a good reason for 
leaving the interests of eternity unprovided for, another hour? 
Why, then, are these excuses made ? Why, except to resist 
the obligations you are under to the living God, and the light 
of that truth which shows you your present dying necessity of 
a Saviour? The reason is plain; sinners wrap themselves up 
in the darkness and fogs of excuses and apologies, lest the 
light of conviction should flash its painful glare upon the 
guilty soul. 

Another expedient is the indulgence of false hopes and false 
expectations. How common, how universal, is the hope of 
sinners that they shall repent hereafter at a more conveni- 
ent season ! How common is the hope and expectation that 
they shall do something to secure the converting grace of God ! 
How common, even for awakened sinners, to flatter themselves 
that they shall do something to make themselves better and 
8* 



178 SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

more fit to come to Christ ! Now, whence the indulgence of 
hopes like these ? Are they authorized by the word of God, 
or by facts ? Can any reason be assigned why they should be 
held with such an almost relentless grasp — and that, in face of 
the multiplied warnings of God — except to shut out the light 
of God's truth ? Is not this the precise and only reason that, 
stripped of these hopes, a sense of guilt and danger would 
rush in upon the soul, and spoil all present quiet in sin ? 

Another method of hiding the truth and averting its force 
is, to reproach religion and its ministers. How often have we 
heard the very religion which the Son of God came from 
heaven to teach, reviled and condemned as enthusiasm and 
fanaticism, and even as the work of the devil ! Especially, 
during a season of religious revival, how clamorous are many 
in heaping obloquy and reproaches upon that religion and its 
ministers ! And when they dare stigmatize a revival by no 
harsher epithets, then it is only the fear and alarm occasioned 
by terrific preaching — at most mere sympathy. Now, why is 
all this — why all this zeal against, to say the least, harmless 
men and harmless things ? " If this work be of men, it will 
come to naught." Why, then, not let it alone ? Ah, my 
hearers, the truths of God have, at such seasons, peculiar 
power ; they are seen in visible operation. The citadel of sin 
is stormed, and not by weapons carnal, but mighty through 
God. An ungodly world does homage to their power by 
summoning every recruit to resist, which impiety and pro- 
fanity, and often blasphemy itself, can furnish. It would not 
be difficult to enlarge this enumeration. How common the 
expedient of diverting the mind by attention to worldly things ! 
One will immerse himself in business, another mingle in gay 
company and unite in trivial and mirthful conversation, an- 
other break away from retirement and from religious society, 
and resort to scenes of folly, of pleasure and dissipation — and 
all this to scatter the gloom of conviction, and to silence the 
clamors of an angry conscience. " Every one that doeth evil 
hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 179 

should be reproved." And I make the appeal to every indi- 
vidual in this house — have you not adopted some one of the 
expedients now specified, to avoid the conviction of your guilt 
and danger as the truth of God has unfolded them ? 

IY. I will only appeal to two other sources of proof: the 
influence of religious conversation, and that of the faithful 
preaching of the gospel. 

Zealous, communicative and faithful Christians carry light — 
the light of divine truth — with them wherever they go. When 
they talk of what is nearest to their hearts — their religion, 
their Saviour and their God — when they expostulate faithfully 
with sinners, and when what they say is enforced by a blame- 
less example, they give a weight to the sentence of God's 
condemnation which few things, short of the solemnities of the 
final day, can give. Now, let the inquiry be put to any im- 
penitent sinner who has had intercourse with persons of this 
character who have dealt faithfully with him, if he has not 
found it trying and painful — if he has not endeavored to avoid 
their company and their conversation — if he does not prefer 
that company where the things of religion are not introduced ? 
Has not the hour when you have been obliged to listen to 
faithful expostulation, been irksome and tedious ? Are there 
not many of you who would tremble at the thought of such 
an interview with that faithful servant of God who has been 
among us ? And why is it so ? Would he tell you any thing 
which God has not told you? No; he would only bring the 
truths of God so near that you are afraid you would feel them. 
"Every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh 
to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved." 

And now let me ask you, how you have felt under the faith- 
ful, pungent preaching of the gospel ? I know, indeed, there 
may be much of the gospel which you are willing to hear — 
even many of its more prominent and distinguishing doctrines ; 
but when the preacher has torn away, root and branch, all 
your self-righteousness — when he has exhibited, in their com- 
bined energy, those truths of the gospel which showed you on 



180 SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

the one hand that you were guilty, and which on the other cast 
you wholly upon the sovereign grace of God, and there left you, 
and made you feel that u thou art the man," — have you not felt 
uneasy, and hardly known how to find rest in your present 
condition ? Have you not hated him, and hated his doctrine ? 
I ask you again, have you not often refused to fix in your 
thoughts the truths which you have heard, lest you should 
come to a realizing discovery of your condition ? Have you 
not often suppressed both truth and evidence at the bar of 
conscience, when they were against you ? "When the glass of 
divine truth has been held up before you and shown you to 
yourself, have you not gone away determined to forget what 
manner of men ye were? Do you not know, in your own 
hearts, that the hopes you now entertain of future happiness 
have not the least foundation ; that they are the result of that 
blind infatuation which tempts you to believe that things are 
as you would have them to be — the result, not of evidence, not 
of examination, not founded in the truth, but in direct disre- 
gard and contempt of every truth of God, and, to speak 
plain, mere refuge of lies, where the light of eternal truth is 
wholly excluded, and where nothing but the darkness you 
love reigns ? My dear hearers, you may think me too plain, 
too direct and too personal; but I judge no man. I disregard 
every judgment but that of God and your own conscience. In 
his presence and at that tribunal, I lodge the appeal. The 
decisions of the judgment-day will be personal ; and if your 
own hearts condemn you, God is greater than your hearts, and 
knoweth all things. 

EEMAKKS. 

1. Our subject will enable us to see how unfounded and im- 
pious is a very common complaint of sinners. 

There are many such who admit the importance of religion, 
who flatter themselves, too, that they are willing to attend to 
the subject ;. but they complain that they do not and cannot 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 181 

feel it. Here they rest, waiting for the Spirit of God to make 
them feel it. My dear hearers, this is delusion — fatal delu- 
sion. You admit, but you do not feel, the importance of pro- 
viding for the salvation of your soul ! Why do you not % Is 
it because there is nothing in God — nothing in Christ — nothing 
in your character as a lost sinner, doomed to endless death, 
which is sufficient to make you feel ? ~No. It is because you 
hate the light — it is because you come not to the light — lest 
you should feel. You know that, if you were to look at your- 
self, even for one hour, in the light of God's truth, you would 
feel. You know that, if you were to let the truths of God, 
which show you your guilt, your helplessness, as one exposed 
— and justly exposed — to an immediate and an eternal damna- 
tion, you would feel. Make the experiment. Try it. Go 
alone with God. And now, will you charge your stupidity 
and hardness of heart upon the Spirit of God % Let conscience 
speak, and give it a fair hearing, and that moment you will 
be an awakened sinner. But so long as you do it not, you 
never will feel. 

The Spirit of God is the spirit of truth. He operates on the 
conscience and the heart through the truth, and in no other 
way. And, my dear hearers, if you do not come to the light 
of God's truth — if you do not turn and fix your attention on 
the horrors of your state as a rebel against God, you never 
will feel till the fires of hell shall make you feel. 

2. Sinners who are only partially awakened, are doing 
nothing to any purpose in the matter of their conversion. 

Every such sinner, though he sees some truth, and feels 
it too, still sees but little as he must see it. He does not 
come out into the full light of God's word. He cherishes 
false hopes and false expectations, which break the force of 
truth on the conscience ; he refuses to see the worst of his case. 
He must see this. Unless he sees and feels the justice of 
his condemnation — unless he has just views of himself, as his 
character and condition are disclosed in the Bible — unless he 
comes to the light — he never will be converted. Now, if 



182 SINNEKS HATE THE LIGHT. 

there are any of you, my hearers, who are in some slight de- 
gree convinced of sin, partly awakened, occasionally taking 
some transient glimpse of yourself as a lost man, we say to 
you, you are doing nothing to any purpose in this great con- 
cern. You may go on in this way, and only increase your 
guilt, and perish at last under an aggravated doom. "We say 
to you, therefore, " Come to the light ; come into that light 
which shall show you to yourself as you are ; come where you 
can see yourself as God sees you." Look, and ponder that idol 
of your heart, on which God has kindled the fires of his indig- 
nation, that the affections of your heart may recoil from it. 
Look solemnly down the precipice where you stand, into that 
abyss of woe into which the slighest agitation may plunge 
you — look within on thy heart of cold alienation from God, 
and proud contempt of thy Saviour ; and still look, and still 
ponder thyself — thy condition as a ruined, self-ruined sinner, 
till you can feel — I do not say how much — but enough to lead 
you to fall a penitent at the feet of mercy, of abused and in- 
jured mercy. Think of thyself, ponder thy condition as a sin- 
ner, till, with cheerful, affectionate, fearless trust, thou canst 
commit thy soul to that almighty Saviour, and of choice, with 
unqualified preference, and unfaltering purpose, yield thyself 
to his service. 

3. Ministers must not be afraid of alarming and distressing 
sinners. 

Sinners are not ordinarily converted till they see and feel that 
there is great danger that they never will be converted. Sin- 
ners, if converted, are converted through the truth ; and one 
truth respecting them is, that there is very little hope in him- 
self, for the sinner, that he ever shall be converted ; and it is 
a truth which is ordinarily not felt. When the sinner first 
begins to attend to the concerns of his soul, he flatters himself 
that it is an easy work. But during the progress of awaken- 
ing and conviction, he finds one prop of self-righteousness and 
self-dependence giving way, after another ; he sees that his 
prayers, and his seeking, and his tears all pass for nothing ; he 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 183 

resorts to meetings, to Christians, and to ministers, and though 
he hears many instructions that are necessary, yet it all avails 
nothing toward subduing his hard and reckless heart. Thus 
he sees himself naked and defenseless — unprotected from the 
coming wrath; and that his guilt deserves perdition, and that 
the law and attributes of God all threaten its speedy approach. 
Here, he well nigh gives up all hope, and feels that he can wait, 
can defer his reconciliation to God, no longer. And now, for the 
first time, he has come to the light. Now the fire and ham- 
mer of eternal truth are applied ; and now, if ever, the heart 
of rock breaks. Let not the minister of Christ be afraid of 
bringing home the whole truth to the conscience of the sinner. 
Christ, the prophets, and the apostles, by their preaching, 
stung sinners to the quick ; they pricked them in their hearts, 
■until they exclaimed, "Men and brethren, what shall we do?" 
They opened to their view a hastening destruction, roused 
them from their slumbers, and forced them to feel that they 
merited eternal death, and were momently exposed to it. And 
if ministers would preach the truth, they must thunder an 
alarm in the ears of sleeping guilt, and rouse the stupid to a 
sense of a judgment and a damnation that lingereth not. And, 
my dear hearers, yon will not reproach us for laboring to de- 
molish your delusive confidence and hopes, when sudden de- 
struction shall once come upon you. You will not wonder 
that we labor so much to draw you from your refuges of lies. 
No ; you will wonder that you did not believe us. You will 
reproach yourself in anguish, that you did not believe that 
this Sabbath was the day, and perhaps the only day, of salva- 
tion ; and that you did not resolve to give up all hope from 
to-morrow, and secure an interest in Christ before that sun 
shall set. 

4. There is fearful reason to believe that many in this con- 
gregation will never be even truly convicted. 

What is conviction ? It is a deep sense of guilt, without 
palliation and without excuse, and of danger so great and so 
threatening that the soul cannot rest while out of Christ. And 



184 SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 

now, my hearers, how many of you are utter strangers to 
such conviction? And what hope is there, that you will 
not continue thus? What means of conviction, that ever 
did or ever will produce the effect, have not "been used 
with you in all their power? God has given you his gos- 
pel, has unvailed his glories, has come to you in the full 
promulgation of his law, with all its requirements and sanc- 
tions. He has made known to you the Saviour in the full- 
ness of his love and compassion, and his all-sufficiency to 
save. He has opened, in bright display, the rewards of his 
favor in the purity, and bliss, and joys of the world above. 
He has told you of the darkness and despair, and the wailing 
and the woes of the pit. All the moral influence which the 
universe affords by mercy, by terror, by entreaty, by love, by 
the richest gift of benevolence, he has concentrated to a point, 
and poured it burning and blazing on your heart. And where 
are you ? You have felt it — you could not help that. But, 
instead of yielding to it, and welcoming it into your heart and 
conscience, you have resisted it to the utmost. You are still 
resisting it. If slightly moved, still you maintain the firm 
posture of resistance, carrying still in your own bosom the 
sentence of condemnation. And now, if all this has been in 
vain — yea, if, in addition to all this, you have once and again 
passed through a revival of religion, and are even now living, 
and have for months lived, amid the displays of the power and 
glory of a present God — if he has here, before your eyes, been 
walking in these streets, and on every side of you multiplying 
the trophies of his love — if the dead, on your right hand and 
on your left, have heard the voice of God and lived, and you 
are yet unmoved, yet unconcerned in your rebellion against 
that God whose glories you behold — why, fellow-sinner, how 
can you ever expect to be awakened ? 

And now, my dear hearers, have you not long enough hated 
and resisted, and shut out the light of truth? Eemember, 
you cannot always do thus. Soon will these days of hope be 
passed and gone forever. Soon will that light, which now 



SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT. 185 

shines to reveal a God of mercy, and to allure you to his 
friendship and love — that light, which discloses to the eye of 
guilt and crime, a Saviour entreating reconciliation, and prof- 
fering everlasting life — that light, which beams upon you from 
the eternal throne, softened and tempered by the cheering rays 
of love, to draw you to the bosom of God; soon, ah soon, 
will this light of everlasting truth, show you to yourself, to 
the Judge, and the Judge to you, when there will be none to 
pity — none to save. Oh, if this light of these days of mercy 
be insupportable to thy guilty soul — how will you bear the 
light of that day which shall show you an incensed God, and 
thyself under the just desert, and the hopeless doom of his 
wrath I If you are not willing to see and feel enough of your 
guilt and ruin as a sinner, to relent with contrition, and accept 
of mercy from thy offended God — oh, how can you endure the 
light that shall reveal a God that will never forgive — that 
shall reveal heaven as thy lost inheritance, and hell as thy final 
doom ? How can you bear the light of that day, when the 
sentence of thy God shall echo, in responsive thunder, the 
solemn " Amen. It is finished ;" " Just and true are thy 
ways, thou King of saints ;" " Even so, Lord God Almighty, 
true and righteous are thy judgments ?" 



XIV. 

ON HEAVEN. 

Eev. vii. 9-17. 

Admitted for the consolation of the Church on earth to be- 
hold and to record, as an eye-witness, the happiness of the 
saints in heaven, the Apostle John gives ns perhaps the fullest 
and liveliest descriptions of that blessed world, which God has 
revealed. 

From the manner in which the inspired writers describe the 
happiness of the saved, it would seem impossible, that in this 
world, we conld bear a full communication of its nature. 
What John saw, laid him as dead at the feet of him who 
walketh amidst the golden candlesticks. Accordingly the de- 
scriptions of that world are highly figurative ; and though not 
fully unfolding the happiness there enjoyed, serve to raise in 
us the most exalted conceptions of its nature and degree. At 
the same time, so much is said, either in terms exactly literal, 
or by comparisons and contrasts so nearly approaching literal 
description, as adequately to answer the purposes of making 
known to us such a world. The latter mode of description 
chiefly prevails in our text. 

" After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of 
all nations, and kindred, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and be- 
fore the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried with 
a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our G-od which sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders 
and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshiped G-od, 
saying, Amen : Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor and 



ON" HEAVEN. 18T 

power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one of the 
elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? 
and whence came they ? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said 
unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed 
their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they 
before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple : and he that 
sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither 
thirst any more : neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb 
which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living 
fountains of waters. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.' ? 

What a different scene, what a different world, separated 
only by a slight vail, from that which we inhabit, is here pre- 
sented to our view — a world into which any child of God may 
enter by a single step, and in a moment of time ! 

The description of the apostle leads us to consider — 

I. The number of its inhabitants. "I beheld, and lo, a 
great multitude which no man could number." 

If we reflect on the power of God, we see that it is as easy 
to create a million, even a million of millions, of the brightest 
spirits, as to create one. He has but to speak and it is done. If 
we survey the magnificence and profusion of his works which 
fall under our observation, we behold every part of the visible 
universe filled with beings, from the immeasurable system of 
worlds to the minutest atom. If we consider the end of God's 
creation, his own glory, and remember that heaven is the per- 
fection of his works, the grand scene of his glory, the place of 
his immediate residence, we shall at once feel that the multi- 
tudes who are to dwell there must be innumerable. There, 
God is to reveal himself — there, he is to be known, and adored, 
and glorified. And shall that world be thinly inhabited? 
Shall those realms, which God has thus made for himself, be 
but as empty space ? shall heaven be a blank, a desert ? True 
it is, our Lord has declared that "Narrow is the way that 
leadeth unto life and few there be that find it." But he speaks 
comparatively, and of those periods in which the success ot 
the gospel is small. The number of those who have been, and 
who will be saved, compared with the multitude who have 



188 ON HEAVEN. 

been, and who will, perhaps for centuries to come, be lost, is 
indeed overwhelming. Still from this world there shall be a 
bright host of witnesses to the glory of its Kedeemer. The 
world will stand long enough for this purpose. He made this 
world the scene of his humiliation, and it will yet be the scene 
of his triumph. Let the gospel extend ; let the Holy Ghost 
accompany it, as prophets foretell, and redeemed sinners shall 
one day fill and crowd the realms of everlasting light and 
glory. Nor is this an unimportant circumstance in the happi- 
ness of the world of bliss. In this world, to augment mem- 
bers, often tends to multiply evils. But in heaven, where there 
will be no conflicting interests — where the wants of one will 
not be supplied at the expense of another — where every bosom 
glows with the pure flame of divine love — the social feelings 
will operate unclogged and unalloyed. There, every heart 
will beat high with desire to promote the general happiness, 
and the multiplication of objects will only extend, and warm, 
and quicken the mutual affection, and cause each to feel what 
is felt by every other, and heighten the universal joy of the 
innumerable throng. 

II. The multitude of the redeemed is represented as made 
up " of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues." 

In this world, men are the subjects of countless local and 
circumstantial prejudices and even antipathies. National 
and family distinctions and interests, are a perpetual source of 
jealousy, rivalry, and hatred. Difference of education, man- 
ners, customs, and even of complexion, separate one from an- 
other at a wide remove ; and diversity of religious sentiment 
on points of no greater moment than forms and ceremonies, 
alienate from one another the very members of the family of 
God. In heaven all these petty distinctions, and a thousand 
similar causes of alienation, contempt, and enmity, among 
men, will be completely annihilated. One affection will move 
every heart, one object command all the activity in that world. 
There will be no distinctions but those which, like the beauti- 
ful variety in the works of God, will add to the beauty of the 



ON HEAVEN. 189 

whole. One star will differ from another star in glory, only 
to augment the splendor. 

In this world religion — oh, shame on man ! — religion, sacred 
name, is prostituted to sanction discord, to justify hatred, and 
to consecrate bigotry. But it is a perversion. Religion 
acknowledges nothing as her work but union and peace. In 
heaven no odious denominations shall parcel out the redeemed 
of the Lord ; no frivolous distinctions break the unity of the 
members of Christ ; but people of every nation and kindred, 
and tribe, and tongue, with one heart, shall bow and worship 
before the throne of the Eternal. There, the song of the re- 
deemed company shall be one. The righteous Abel — the 
earliest victim of mortality — shall join in the same notes of 
praise with the last child of Adam that shall fall asleep in 
Jesus. All having washed their robes white in the same 
blood, shall sing together, without a feeling or a note of dis- 
cord, " Salvation to our God and the Lamb." 

III. The apostle describes the society in that world as com- 
posed of " angels" and " saints" — those who have never sinned, 
and those who were redeemed, and " have washed their robes 
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 

The former were created and have continued in the highest 
rank of bright and glorious spirits. The latter were once 
"dead in trespasses and sins;" "walked according to the 
course of this world, according to the prince of the power of 
the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobe- 
dience ;" but they have been quickened together with Christ, 
and raised up together with him, and made to sit with angels 
and the Lord of angels, " in heavenly places." Angels scorn 
not their society ; they welcome them as partakers of their 
joy, and delight in their happiness. The interest which they 
take in man they have already manifested. When man was 
created, " these morning stars sang together ; these sons of 
God shouted for joy." When he was redeemed, their bright 
hosts flew to earth, and sang, " Glory to God in the highest." 
When a sinner repents, there is joy in the presence of the 



190 ON HEAVEN. 

angels; and in the midst of all the sorrows and trials and 
temptations here below, they are ministering spirits to the 
heirs of salvation. They conveyed the departed Lazarus to 
Abraham's bosom. With warmth of affection will these holy 
beings welcome ns to their blissful society above. With what 
transport w r ill they lead ns np to the throne of God and the 
Lamb, and point us to the surrounding glories of our eternal 
abode ; with what joy will they relate, and we hear, the 
account of their embassies of love to us, while we were 
here training for heaven ! And while we celebrate the 
grace that brought us through, and dwell on the wonders 
of redeeming love, though they sing not our song, yet 
with a voice as the sound of many waters and the voice 
of mighty thunderings, they will strike the chorus to our 
praises. 

There too we shall unite with all good men. The Scriptures 
clearly imply that we shall know all these saints in the king- 
dom of glory. Unspeakably delightful is this anticipation ! 
There we shall meet those with whom we have prayed and 
suffered and taken sweet counsel together, while we have gone 
in company to the house of God here below. We shall be re- 
united to the pious husband, wife, parent, child and friend, 
who have gone to the enjoyment of the Saviour, leaving us 
desolate and afflicted. There, as ministers, we shall meet the 
seals of our ministry and the crowns of our rejoicing, in those 
converted by our instrumentality, and there, too, hail those 
who, under God, brought us back from sin and ruin, and gave 
us this blessedness. There we shall see those whom the nar- 
row span of life permits us not to see on earth ; patriarchs and 
prophets, apostles and martyrs — those pious Baxters and I\"ew- 
tons and Edwardses, who have instructed us by their writings, 
and animated us by their example. We shall see Paul on his 
throne ; and, though we shall not hear him preach, we shall 
hear him, who once breathed out threatenings and slaughter, 
shout the praises of redeeming grace. All those who are sep- 
arated from us by distance, those of whose devotion to the 



ON HEAVEN. 191 

cause of Christ we hear, and who, as laborers together with 
God, are carrying on to their fulfillment his purposes of mercy 
in this guilty world — these, if like them we are faithful unto 
death, we shall meet as our friends and companions in heaven, 
— all united in love to that God, in gratitude to that Saviour, 
whose throne they encircle — all united to each other in spot- 
less purity in the most tender benignity and active love. 
What has this selfish world to compare with intercourse like 
this, where every mind thus shines with light, and every heart 
thus glows with love ? 

TV. The apostle describes the employment of the innumer- 
able multitude, as praise " to God and the Lamb." 

In other parts of the inspired volume, where the employments 
of heaven are also described, worship and praise are described 
as the chief occupation. We are not, however, to infer that 
this is the exclusive employment of its inhabitants. Angels, we 
know, are frequently engaged in active commissions of execut- 
ing the will of God in doing good to others. Analogy would 
teach us that the saints also have similar employment ; and 
our text, that " they serve God day and night." But of the 
precise nature of the occupations of the spirits of just men 
made perfect, we are ignorant ; nor could we, probably, com- 
prehend them. It is no unreasonable conjecture, that the field 
of active beneficence will be hereafter enlarged in proportion 
as its spirit and powers are magnified. This is in kind the 
highest happiness ; and that God will perpetuate that kingdom 
of instrumentality, by which he will forever bless the holy 
universe in the communication of good, we cannot doubt. 
How this good is to be done, who are to be its subjects, we 
cannot know, till we shall know more of that system of worlds 
and beings which his Almighty hand has profusely scattered 
throughout the regions of space. To fly on au gels' wings 
from world to world, from system to system, on errands of 
beneficence and mercy, may be no small part of their daily 
and delightful employment. It is sufficient, however, for us 
to rest in the assurance that they will be occupied in that 



192 ON HBAYEN. 

work for which they are best qualified ; that their employ- 
ments will be assigned by their God and Kedeemer, and be 
such as to produce the greatest happiness, and to excite to 
new and continual praise. In every description of the world 
above, it is the voice of praise and thanksgiving which we 
hear — the overflowing of thankfulness for a state of exquisite 
enjoyment ; it is the universal burst of gratitude in songs of 
joy, extending from one boundary of heaven to the other, and 
making all its pillars tremble. 

Y. The apostle next describes the happiness of the innumer- 
able company. 

In one part of the description, they are represented as those 
"who came out of great tribulation;" and again, "they shall 
hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the 
sun light on them, nor any heat." " God shall wipe away all 
tears from their eyes." The description is highly figurative, 
but it conveys to us the clearest conception of unqualified 
good, and the total absence of all evil. In this world we are 
born to trouble. Fear and terror, danger and calamity, pain 
and suffering, grief and misery, poverty and labor, shame and 
reproach, sin and remorse, the curse and the frown of justice 
have fixed their abode. Those before the throne, came out of 
great tribulation ; and so shall it be of all, for it is through 
much tribulation that we must enter the kingdom of God. 
Various, indeed, are the trials of the saints below. Some, like 
Lot, have their righteous souls vexed with the ungodly around 
them ; some, like Job, are plunged from the height of pros- 
perity to the lowest depths of adversity; some, like David, are 
harassed by the most severe persecutions, both from enemies 
and friends ; some, like Eli, are cursed with wicked children ; 
some, like Lazarus, are afflicted by poverty and disease ; some, 
like Peter, are shut up in prison ; some, like Manasseh, feel 
the keenest anguish of remorse ; some, like the apostles and 
martyrs, are afflicted, tormented, stoned and sawn asunder, 
and all are borne down with the body of sin and death, and 
distressed more or less with fears and doubts and heart-break- 



ON HEAVEN. 193 

ings for sin, crying, " O wretched men that we are, who shall 
deliver us !" 

And, oh, how changed their state above ! The last struggle 
of death, is the last pang they shall feel forever. There shall 
be no wicked men to vex by their unrighteous deeds — no re- 
vilers to scoff at the disciple of Jesus — no slanderer to wound 
reputation — no oppressor to afflict and crush the feeble — no 
distresses of poverty, hunger or thirst, cold or heat to be en- 
countered — no faithless friend, nor ungrateful child, to grieve 
and torture the tenderest sensibilities of the heart — no sick 
bed of an expiring relative — no graves to weep over with 
anguish — no widow or orphan as objects of unavailing sym- 
pathy — no hardened sinner to be warned, and warned in vain 
— no falls of the pious, and apostasies of the self-deceived, to 
be lamented — no pincers, nor chaldrons, nor racks, nor fires to 
be dreaded. There, and above all, sin shall be no more ; 
there nothing that defiles shall enter. Every cause of sin will 
be removed : no enticing companions to seduce, nor carnal 
body to corrupt, nor deceitful heart to ensnare ; no evil world 
to tempt, no Satan to deceive, no cessation of divine influence 
on the soul ; no David will there lament with anguish his fall, 
no Peter his denial of his Lord ; no Christian exclaim, " O 
wretched man," nor pray, " Lead us not into temptation." 
But each shall stand up, in humble triumph, that he has now 
reached the consummation of all his wishes, his prayers, and 
his labors, in freedom from sin, and the purity of perfect holi- 
ness. All sufferings are forgotten, or remembered only to 
bless God, who counted them worthy to suffer for his name. 
From these hills of salvation, they shall look back on their 
passage through this troubled life — and the winds and waves 
having ceased — shall enjoy the everlasting calm of heaven. 
Every thing is done by infinite wisdom and goodness to banish 
the very elements of evil, to dispel the slightest shade of 
misery. With his own hand of mercy, their Father, God, 
hath wiped away all tears from their eyes. 

The remaining part of the description exhibits the nature 
Yol. I.— 9 13 



194: ON HEAVEN. 

and the source of their happiness. " They are clothed with 
white robes and palms in their hands." "They are before the 
throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple : 
and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them." 
a For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne shall feed 
them, and shall lead them nnto living fountains of water." 
This is not the happiness of Mohammed's paradise, not the 
happiness which the world can give. It is refined and holy, 
such as is suited to spiritual beings who are holy. It is the 
happiness founded on, or rather consisting in holiness, and a 
near and intimate access to the God of holiness. Let not its 
nature be judged of by those who, far from having tasted of 
pleasure arising from such a source, have, on the contrary, ex- 
perienced from it nothing but pain and restraint. They know 
not what religion is in this world, much less what it is in 
heaven. To those who do know what it is by experience, 
there is no plainer truth than that religion is happiness. Re- 
ligion is not merely a restraint, not merely external acts of 
self-denial ; it is the union of the soul with God, the con- 
formity of the will with his will, the enjoyment of communion 
with him, and the transformation of every faculty of the soul 
to his image and likeness. Now, happiness arises from a frame 
of mind harmonizing with the nature of those objects which 
can produce it ; and is great, in proportion to the capacity to 
receive and the excellence of the object which imparts it. 
When the soul, therefore, in its most exalted state, becomes 
perfect in those natural faculties and moral qualities which 
constitute in creatures the perfect image of God — when every 
faculty, affection, and sensibility are put in perfect tune, and 
all in unison with the infinite and uncreated source of all good, 
there must be happiness, the most pure and perfect which 
creatures can enjoy. It is the happiness of God himself. 
God — the ever-blessed God — the source of all happiness, 
knows no other than the happiness of holiness. It is a state 
in which that gives pleasure to the creature, which gives 
pleasure to God — in which the soul drinks at the pure and in- 



ON HEAVEN. 195 

exhaustible fountain — in which the bliss of the Almighty be- 
comes the bliss of his creatures. Thus perfect holiness and 
perfect happiness are one and the same thing. It is not more 
impossible that God should be nnhappy, than that perfectly 
holy beings, who serve God day and night, should be. The 
spirits of the just, thus made perfect, will be placed where the 
causes of their happiness shall operate with full effect, the 
sources of their bliss pour a full and unfailing stream. They 
are before the throne of God, and he that sitteth on the throne 
shall dwell among them. The grossness of corporeal senses 
will no longer form the medium of perception. The mind, 
freed from the disorders and obstructions which earth and sin 
now occasion, will be attracted at once by pure and spiritual 
objects, and with steadfast vision contemplate the perfection 
of all that is holy, vast, and excellent. All within and with- 
out will unite to facilitate the acquisition of divine knowledge, 
and the exercise of devout affections. The perfections of God, 
displayed on every side, in all their brightness and glory, will 
demand instant and ceaseless wonder, gratitude, love, and joy. 
Here, we are illuminated by the light of the sun, or we grope 
in darkness. "That city hath no need of the sun, neither 
of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten 
it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." The purpose and works 
of God shall be traced from the ages of eternity, and followed 
down through that dispensation of providence, grace, and 
glory, through the eternity opening before ns. The rays of 
Deity, tilling every part of the eternal temple, will be softened 
to the sight of every beholder ; we shall " behold him face to 
face, we shall see him as he is !" Oh, with what distinctness 
shall we see, with what energy shall we feel, then, that " we 
live and move, and have our being in God !" The capacity of 
every holy being must be tilled. There, surrounded with his 
glory, their every desire will expire in the bosom of their God, 
and triumphs of joy and rapture — God's own blessedness — be 
the portion of the soul. 

As no small ingredient in the happiness of the saved, we are 



196 ON HEAYEN. 

referred to the means by which they attain this exaltation. 
'I They washed their robes, and made them white in the blood 
of the Lamb." They are clothed in white robes, to denote 
their moral pnrity, and bear palms in their hands as emblems 
of victory in the good fight of faith. The first point to which 
onr attention is directed is, that the " blood of the Lamb" was 
that in which they washed their robes, and made them white. 
In the efficacy of the death of Christ they trusted, as the atone- 
ment for their sins. Their robes were defiled and stained with 
sin ; yea, as scarlet, as crimson. Hell was their desert ; and 
they stood on its brink. But " the blood of Christ cleanseth 
from all sin." Here, they rested all their hopes of glory. 
Here, amidst the fires and terrors of the last day, they ex- 
pected to triumph. "In the Lord have I righteousness." And 
they were washed, they were justified, they were sanctified 
and glorified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit 
of our God. It was Christ whom they trusted, and it was 
Christ who delivered from the horrible pit and the miry clay, 
and set their feet on the rock of ages. Behold, then, the cause, 
the whole cause of the wonderful change in the redeemed host 
— this grand translation from earth to heaven, from ruin to 
glory ! " They washed their robes, and made them white in 
the blood of the Lamb." "Where, he is there are they also, to 
behold his glory, and to be one with him as he is one with the 
Father. They shall see that glorified body which he hath 
taken into union with his divinity — him who is the brightness 
of the Father's glory, and whose identity with the Father is so 
perfect, " that whoso hath seen the Son, hath seen the Father 
also" — him, who was once a man of sorrows, afflicted, buffeted, 
crowned with thorns and crucified, exalted to the glory which 
he had with the Father before the world was ; they shall be- 
hold those arms, once stretched on the cross for their salvation, 
opened to embrace them ; those hands that were nailed to the 
tree, placing the crown of life on their head ; and that heart 
which was pierced for their offenses, glowing still with love 
stronger than death. Oh, with what joy, will they behold 



ON HEAVEN. 197 

their once crucified, but now reigning Saviour! What joy, 
after having loved and served him here below, to be admitted 
into his immediate presence ; to receive from him the fullness 
of that gift, life everlasting ; to be led by him to those foun- 
tains of living waters which proceed from the throne of God ; 
to hear from his lips the agonies he felt, when he cried, " My 
God, why hast thou forsaken me?" — of all the scenes of woe 
and distress through which he passed, to pluck them from 
everlasting burnings ; to learn, while enjoying the bliss of 
heaven, what he did by his word, his providence, his Spirit, 
and his blood, to confer that bliss upon them ! And, while 
duration rolls away its ages, to find him the same yesterday, 
to-day, and forever ! Oh, Christians, do you wish for heaven, 
if Jesus may not give it to you ? Has it any charms without 
the Lamb on the throne ? But, saved by the blood, cheered 
by the presence, consoled by the love, blessed with the gifts, 
and enlightened with the glory of Jesus, is not such a heaven 
enough? "Worthy," cry the mingled voices of saints and 
angels ; " worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, 
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, 
and blessing." " Worthy," again cry his redeemed, in a song 
which angels may not sing, but in which, with holy ecstasy, 
we will join, "worthy art thou; for thou wast slain, and hast 
redeemed us to God by thy blood." 

REMARKS. 

1. Our subject furnishes great support under present afflic- 
tions. 

Once the redeemed host were men of like passions with our- 
selves. They came out of great tribulation. Once they sighed 
and groaned under sorrows and sufferings as deep and grievous 
as those by which any of you are afflicted. But to what a 
height of happiness and glory are they now advanced, with 
what a glorious society do they now associate, in what exalted 
employments are they now engaged, in what refined bliss do 



198 ON HEAVEN. 

they now partake ! They will suffer distress and death no 
more. Their minds are cleansed from every taint of sin — their 
breasts are the everlasting abode of peace and joy. The wis- 
dom and goodness of God are employed to pour around them 
that profusion of good, which shall bespeak the infinite power 
of the Giver, and the rich treasures of his boundless benevo- 
lence. Blessed spirits ! your lot is fixed, your happiness per- 
manent and eternal ! Oh, what consolation to the suffering 
pilgrim on earth, to lift his contemplations to those who have 
gone before him ! Standing before the throne, and before the 
Lamb, clothed in white robes, and holding up their palms of 
victory, they say to him, " We were once as you are, assaulted 
by the same temptations, and the same enemies ; stricken by 
the same arrows, we drank of the same cup, and felt all the 
sharpness and bitterness of the Christian warfare. Often were 
we ready to faint — often we cried to God in the agony of grief; 
we felt all the weakness of your faith, and trembled under 
all the infirmities and sins of our common nature, and were on 
the very point of being swallowed up in despair. But thanks be 
unto God, who always caused us to triumph in Christ Jesus !" 
Faint not, therefore, in your course. Behold this cloud of wit- 
nesses ! With one voice they bid you lift up the hands which 
hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees. Be strong — fear 
not — for your God will come — he will come with a recom- 
pense, and save you. With angels you shall unite. One 
spirit shall reign through heaven ; one song employ every 
tongue. From glory to glory shall all be changed. You 
shall be like Jesus, for you shall see him as he is, and God 
shall be all, and in all, forever and ever. One moment in 
heaven, will efface forever the afflictions of earth. 

2. This subject should animate Christians in the work of 
preparation for heaven. 

Is there, my brethren, such a world— that glorious state — of 
which so delightful a picture is presented us ? How different 
from that which we now inhabit ! Here, we see a busy world, 
eager in vain pursuits, agitated by trifles, contending about 



ON HEAVEN. 199 

objects of no moment, and immersed in things which perish 
with the using. All is noise, confusion, vanity, sorrow, and 
evil. But, behold another world, where all things are sub- 
stantial, as here they are vain ; where all things are moment- 
ous, as here they are trifling; where all things are durable and 
eternal, as here they are changeable and transitory! Survey 
its inhabitants, the innumerable multitude of the blessed, and 
you see the population of this world is but a petty tribe ; its 
employments — compared with them — all the concerns of this 
life, are but as the dust ; its pleasures, they are pure and spot- 
less, holy and divine. There, perfect holiness and happiness 
reign without measure and without end. There, God unvails 
his glories — there dwells the Lamb in the midst of the throne 
— there are the eternal songs. Ah, what a contrast to earth ! 
And is this blessed scene near us? May we be called into it 
in a moment? With what anxious solicitude, then, should we 
endeavor to realize it ! How ardently should we desire, how 
strenuously should we labor, to be prepared for it ! Let us 
draw aside the vail, and look at that eternal weight of glory. 
Let us look at it by that faith which " is the substance of 
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Let us 
thus go and stand on the threshold of heaven, listen to its songs, 
and look in on its joys and glories. Brethren, could we then 
sleep ? We do not imagine ; we do not dream. Heaven is near 
to the Christian. At the longest, a few more suns shall rise 
and set, before he shall stand on Mount Zion. His salvation is 
nearer than when he believed ; and it is time, high time, to 
awake out of sleep. If more tears, and trials, and labors, and 
toils are necessary, let him cheerfully acquiesce ; yea, let him 
earnestly strive. Heaven will make him ample amends. 
Every sacrifice will be trifling, when the hand of God shall 
wipe away all your tears. Oh, my brethren in Christ, my 
flock whom I long to present to God meet for the inheritance 
of the saints in light, "labor to enter into that rest" 

3. How precious should Christ be to the Christian on earth ! 

How precious he is to the redeemed host in heaven ! " They 



200 ON HEAYEN. 

washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the 
Lamb." It was Jesus who raised them from sin and hell to 
thrones of glory. It is Jesus whose presence fills heaven with 
transport. And what other hope have you than Christ, the 
hope of glory ? What other heaven do you desire than that 
where Jesus is ? "Whose love hath raised you, Christian, from 
the pit, but the love of Jesus ? Whose arm will guide and 
strengthen and conduct you to that bright world, but the arm 
of Jesus ? Whose hand put the unfading crown on your head, 
but the hand of Jesus ? Whose glory shall be the portion, the 
unchangeable, eternal, satisfying portion of your soul, but the 
glory of Jesus ? Oh, how precious Will Jesus be to the re- 
deemed sinner, when this work is done, and when in heaven 
he surveys its wonders ! Let him be precious now. It is the 
blood of Jesus which is to wash your robes and make them 
white — that blood in which the myriads of the saved shall all 
be washed and presented faultless. Here, then, put all your 
trust. Here, leave all your glory. Here, direct all your 
praise. Here, by singing now, prepare for the songs of heaven 
— " salvation to God and the Lamb." " Unto him that loved 
us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath 
made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him 
be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen." 

4. How unfit for heaven is an impenitent sinner ! 

All the employments and delights of heaven consist in wor- 
shiping, loving and serving God. Saints and angels have no 
other occupation, no other joys. The sinner has not the love 
of God in him. Admitted into heaven,, there is- no delightful 
employment for him. Its delights all flow from the taste and 
feelings of its blessed inhabitants. They love God and the 
Lamb, and therefore they spontaneously unite in one eternal 
song of praise. They love God and the Lamb, therefore they 
drink deep of pleasure. They swell the notes of praise with 
raptures which make the breasts of angels glow, but which 
the tongue of angels cannot describe. And what has an 
enemy of God to do with such employments and such joys? 



ON HEAVEN. 201 

He must stand aghast and amazed, while angels and blessed 
spirits shout the praises of Jesus around the throne of God. 
There is not a single note in the songs of that world which he 
could sound — not a single sentiment which he could adopt — ■ 
not a single ecstasy which he could enjoy. Love, and love 
only, can do this ; and he is an enemy! Miserable being! — a 
wretch in heaven ! Surrounded by millions of blessed spirits, 
and not able to taste one drop of all that bliss with which 
their cup overflows ! A solitary, forsaken being, in the midst 
of these glories ! Angels fly from thee ; for sin they must 
abhor. Redeemed spirits fly from thee; for thou art the 
enemy of Jesus. Oh, who shall be thy companions — what thy 
pleasures ! The presence of an omnipotent God, of purer eyes 
than to behold evil, and who cannot look upon iniquity, thou 
canst not bear, even on earth. Fly, then, from his throne. 
Heaven overwhelms thee with unutterable agonies. Hell is 
your fit, your eternal abode. 



XV. 

HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 

Heb. xii. 14. 
" Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." 

When a person is about to remove and fix his abode in 
a distant country, he usually feels an anxiety to ascertain 
whether his future situation will accord with his wishes and 
secure his happiness. The solicitude in such cases is com- 
monly so great that one seldom changes his residence without 
having first not only acquired all the information he can from 
books and travelers, but actually been on the spot himself and 
obtained personal knowledge of the place and its advantages. 
Thus we act in respect to our condition in this world. Nor 
should we be esteemed as possessing a common share of pru- 
dence, in such a case, if we neglected such wise and precaution- 
ary measures, to make provision for our temporal well-being. 

Not so, when we think of our removal into eternity. That 
heaven is a place of great and permanent happiness, is not 
denied by any who admit its reality. At that world we all 
hope to arrive when death calls us away from this ; and, be 
its happiness what it may, we fondly expect to enjoy it. Few, 
however, it is to be feared, have seriously examined the foun- 
dation of this hope. That heaven is not a place of misery but 
of happiness, to all who dwell there, seems to limit the research 
of multitudes ; and that it is possible that they may be of the 
number who shall partake of its joys, seems to justify their 
confident hopes and expectations of its bliss. "What heaven 
is, what its happiness is, what is necessary to qualify us to 



1 

HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 203 

enjoy it, are inquiries seldom made with that deep interest 
and persevering investigation which the subject demands. 

While God has clearly revealed a world of future happiness, 
and urged us, by every consideration, to prepare for it, he has 
no less clearly taught us what is necessary to such prepara- 
tion. 

In our text this important truth is fully presented : " Holi- 
ness, without which no man shall see the Lord." Heaven is 
the special residence of God, the scene of his glories, where 
he un vails himself to the view of angels and redeemed spirits. 
It is this full vision of God which is the source of all their 
joys, and which, in the text, denotes that happiness which 
springs from the presence of God — the visible display of all 
his glories. 

We have, then, this truth presented for our present medi- 
tations, that — 

Holiness in this world is indispensable to our happiness in 
another. 

I propose to consider — 

First, What holiness is. 

Second, To show its necessity to our future happiness. 

I. Holiness may be considered as obedience to the law of 
God, or as conformity to his moral character. 

It is, however, quite immaterial which definition we adopt. 
As "love is the fulfilling of the law," and as " God is love," 
to obey the law, is to be like God in moral character. 

It is in this light that the Scriptures most frequently pre- 
sent to us the nature of holiness. " Be ye holy, for I am 
holy." And hence Christians are said to be "partakers of 
his holiness" — " partakers of the divine nature," — " after God 
created in righteousness and true holiness," — and "to be 
changed into the same image from glory to glory." 

As this image of God in man consists in the likeness of 
moral character, it follows that holiness in man consists in 
loving the same things which God loves — in desiring the same 
things which God desires ; in a word, in possessing the same 



204: HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR nEAYEN. 

moral affections and dispositions, and in acting them out in 
corresponding conduct. Now, God supremely loves himself. 
He is the all-perfect God. All excellence, compared with the 
excellence of God, is nothing. In loving himself, therefore, 
he loves that which is most worthy to he loved. From the 
same disposition, he delights in every manifestation of his own 
perfections — that is, in his own glory. He delights in his law, 
as the transcript of his nature ; he delights in his Son, as the 
express image of his person ; in the whole plan of salvation, as 
unfolding the riches of his goodness and wisdom ; in the holi- 
ness of his intelligent universe, as reflecting his own moral 
character ; in their happiness, as the effect of his power, his 
grace, and his mercy. For the same reason he delights in all his 
purposes and all his works — in his providential government — 
in the God-exalting truths of his word — in the enlargement, 
purity, and final perfection of his church, and the fulfillment 
of all the designs of infinite love and mercy. As God thus 
delights in the manifestation of himself — that is, in his own 
glory, so all his acts, guided hy his infinite wisdom and per- 
formed by his almighty power, are directed to this end. It is 
easy, then, to see, that holiness in man — being conformity of 
moral character to God — consists in loving God and delighting 
in his glory. 

It is only necessary to add, that while the infinite wisdom 
of God regulates his mighty acts to their ultimate end, so in 
his law and its particular precepts, he has prescribed the same 
end to us, and given us specific rules of action, by obedience 
to which we are to promote that end. This, then, is the char- 
acter which man must possess. This is what God means, when 
he says, " Be ye holy, for I am holy." 

H. Holiness in this world is indispensable to our happiness 
in another. 

1. It is so by the unalterable appointment of God. 

Our text is unequivocal on this point : " Holiness, without 
which no mam, shall see the Lord." No man, be he who he 
may, whether high or low, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, 



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 205 

honorable or mean ; — no man, whatever religion, or virtue, or 
profession, or creed, or works, or prayers he may boast of, 
without holiness, shall be admitted into the presence of God. 
Into the celestial city " there shall in nowise enter any thing 
that defileth." " Except a man be born again," except he be, 
in the language of the apostle, "after God created in right- 
eousness and true holiness," " he cannot see the kingdom of 
God." This is the decision of him who holdeth "the keys of 
death and hell" — who " openeth, and no man shutteth; and 
shutteth, and no man openeth." 

2. It appears from the character of God. 

As a holy being, God delights in holiness, and abhors sin ; 
as the God of truth and justice, he must hate all moral defile- 
ment in his creatures, and be inflexibly determined to punish 
it. Actions are the surest interpreters of character. Were 
God to admit the unholy into his blissful presence, it would 
be a full and decided declaration, that sin and holiness were 
things without a difference ; that his moral government in its 
tremendous sanctions, was intended only to excite groundless 
alarm in his rebellious subjects, and that the whole work of 
redemption — solemn, awful and sublime as it is — the very 
astonishment of heaven and earth' — was without an object, at 
most only a mighty farce. But will the great Eternal thus 
tarnish his glory, and demolish the foundations of his throne ? 
Or, must the unholy in this world be unhappy in the next ? 

3. The same thing appears from the fact that none of the 
sources or means of happiness, which the wicked possess in 
this world, will exist in heaven. 

The happiness which they enjoy here, springs from the grati- 
fication of sensual, ambitious and covetous desires, and from 
those natural affections which pertain to the present mode of 
existence. In heaven, all these sources and means of enjoy- 
ment will utterly fail. We are expressly told that " flesh and 
blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God," and that " in the 
resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, 
but are as the angels of God in heaven." Most of these appe- 



206 HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOE HEAVEN. 

tites, passions and affections pertain to men as corporeal 
beings, or arise from the relations which are peculiar to this 
world. These will of course no longer exist when the spirit 
leaves the body. True it may be, that the recollections of 
these relations will hereafter be sources of happiness or misery ; 
but the relations will cease, and of course the duties and pleas- 
ures arising from them will also cease. All the happiness of 
which man will be capable in another world must be adapted 
to his nature, not as a corporeal but as a spiritual being. As 
such a being, and destitute of holiness, what will be his capa- 
city for happiness ? Will he then be capable of happiness 
from the gratification of avarice, or pride, or ambition, or lust, 
or from the indulgence of any appetite or passion which he 
now possesses, and which can possibly remain when the body 
molders into dust ? On the supposition that all the appetites 
and passions from which he has derived happiness here, may 
go with man into another world, what objects can there be 
found to administer the least gratification ? Plainly, nothing 
from which the unholy derive pleasure in this world will be 
found in heaven. The avaricious will not find in heaven his 
bags of gold; the ambitious will not find the applauses of his 
fellow-worms ; nor the glutton his luxuries ; nor the drunkard 
his cups; nor the unclean the objects of his lusts; nor the 
profane reveler his blasphemous associates ; nor the oppressor 
his slaves. That world contains not objects like these. And 
yet from these objects only, is the man destitute of holiness 
capable of deriving the least enjoyment. In God he has no 
delight. The moment, therefore, he enters eternity, he is 
stripped of every particle of enjoyment. In all heaven, there 
is not a single thing to please his taste or gratify his wishes. 
Eternity to him is an absolute waste. 

4. From the fact that the character of man becomes un- 
changeable at death. 

A mere separation of the soul from the body cannot alter 
the moral state of the soul, or change its views, affections or 
character. This is abundantly decided in the inspired oracles. 



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 207 

" There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in 
the grave, whither thou goest." " The night cometh, when no 
man can work." " Where the tree falleth, there shall it be." 
Especially does the solemn decision in the last chapter of 
Revelation settle this point : " He that is unjust, let him be 
unjust still ; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still." 
The present state is the only state of probation to man. All 
beyond is unchangeable character and eternal retribution. If, 
therefore, the character be unholy, formed by objects pertain- 
ing exclusively to this world, there will be no change to cor- 
respond with the causes of happiness in another. Vain, then, 
is the expectation that we may, while in a state of prepara- 
tion for eternal allotments, seek our chief good in the things 
of this life, and at death undergo a transformation which will 
qualify us to derive happiness from the things of another. 
Brethren, if we make this world our portion, we must carry it 
with us into eternity ; we must at least be able to extinguish 
the last fires which the Almighty will kindle upon it, or we 
cannot be happy. God will not change ; heaven will not 
change ; man will not change ; the world will be burnt up ; 
and where, then, will be the resource for the unholy? 

5. From the nature of the soul. 

The soul of man is formed with natural capacities for happi- 
ness. As intellectual, voluntary and immortal, it is destined 
by its Maker to enjoy that happiness which corresponds with 
its nature. Its desires are large, like its capacities, and will 
forever aspire after that immeasurable good which alone can 
fill them. It cannot submit to total deprivation with indiffer- 
ence ; it cannot be satisfied with mere vanity ; it cannot be 
happy by being freed from positive suffering. The mere ab- 
sence of good will leave the soul in want. With quenchless 
desires, it will still thirst for happiness till it be filled with 
that for which its Creator constructed its capacities. God 
himself only can fill and satisfy it. 

Happiness does not depend on mere locality; it depends on 
the natural constitution of the immortal spirit, and on the 



208 HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 

objects which are adapted to that constitution. God and his 
glory, and nothing beside, are adapted to the nature of intelli- 
gent and moral beings. Look through the universe, and there 
is nothing on which the soul of man can fix as an object of 
contemplation or love which can satisfy it but God. Fix on 
what else it may — ushered into eternity, and there unoccupied 
— unblessed with God, as an object of delight, the soul will 
still stretch its desires into immortality, and remain poor, and 
wretched, and blind, and naked, and in want of all things. It 
will be the immortal spirit — with all those capacities, desires 
and energies, which point out its original destiny to be high 
in the realms of bliss, and to be filled with all the fullness of 
God — still in want ! Destitute, poor, having nothing ! 

6. If we consider what heaven is. 

All the inhabitants, employments and joys of that world are 
holy. Hence it is called " the high and holy place ;" and 
from the manifestations of God there made, it is called " the 
habitation of his holiness." The unholy can find no happiness 
in the society of heaven. It is the residence of God. There 
God appears " glorious in holiness." His holiness is his glory 
— that glory which is above the heavens — on which angels 
cannot look with steadfast vision, and before which they vail 
their faces. How could the unholy bear such displays of the 
Deity as these ? "When the glories of God's holiness should 
thus blaze upon them, how would their eyes fail, and their 
hearts die within them ! 

Every being in that world reflects the image of God. There 
is not one who is not admitted there for the very purpose of 
glorifying God by thus reflecting his image ; not one whose 
feelings, whose affections, pursuits and joys do not result from 
perfect holiness. Where, in heaven itself, could the unholy 
find a friend or an associate ? They abhor the fellowship of 
the holy on earth, unless their specific character be concealed. 
This substantial dissimilarity of character in the righteous, of 
tastes and pursuits, cannot result in harmonious and delight- 
ful intercourse. In heaven, that character will not be con- 



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 209 

cealed, but shine in unblemished luster. Angels or saints 
cannot love, or welcome to their society, one who is an enemy 
to the God whom they serve. In all heaven, then, he can 
find no kindred spirit. Placed in the midst of its innumera- 
ble hosts, he must be, and feel himself to be, a solitary, for- 
saken outcast. 

ISTor can he find happiness in the employments of heaven. 
These consist in active beneficence, and in the pure and per- 
fect worship of God. Angels are " ministering spirits ;" and 
of saints it is said, " they serve God day and night." Of the 
precise nature of the acts of beneficence, we have no distinct 
information. The blessedness of doing good is the highest 
kind of happiness of which man is capable ; and that God will 
perpetuate that kind of instrumentality by which he now 
blesses the holy universe, there can be no doubt. Heaven is 
a world of active beneficence — a practical comment on the 
great rule of righteousness — " It is more blessed to give than 
to receive." God is the great fountain of this blessedness; 
and the united efforts of all holy beings are streams of good, 
universal, unceasing, and immortal. ]STo selfish affection is 
known. Every mind is expanded with affections, embracing 
universal good. On this object every eye is turned. "With 
this every heart thrills ; to this every hand is devoted. To fly 
on angels' wings to execute God's commandments in imparting 
good, is no small part of the delightful service of the saved. 

But for work so divine the sinner has no heart. His affec- 
tions are all selfish; his designs, and plans, and efforts all 
center in self. His only scheme of happiness is to gain good 
from others. For that happiness which consists in doing good, 
he has no taste — of its nature or degree, he has no conception. 
In this great and commanding pursuit of heaven, he could 
not engage. Every wish of his heart must be opposed to the 
one great end for which heaven was formed. This employ- 
ment of heaven to him must be a tedious drudgery — a cruel 
bondage ; and its rewards, instead of the inherent blessedness 
of doing good, a sort of damnation. 

14 



210 HOLINESS ALONE FITS POR HEAVEN. 

Another principal employment in heaven is the worship of 
God. In almost every glimpse afforded of that world, we find 
the angels and the spirits of jnst men made perfect, bowing 
with adoration and transport before the throne of God. "When 
Isaiah, in his vision, saw the seraphim standing before the 
throne of God, and covering their faces from the glory of his 
presence, he heard them crying, one to another, with voices 
that shook the pillars of the eternal temple : " Holy, holy, 
holy is the Lord God of hosts." So, when Daniel saw the 
"Ancient of days" on his throne, which was "like a fiery 
flame," " thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten 
thousand times ten thousand stood before him." And in later 
times, when John saw heaven opened, he heard again and 
again the voice of many angels, and of the redeemed multi- 
tude, " saying, with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that 
was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and 
strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." And he tells 
us, " they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, 
Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." 

Every thing we hear in that world is the voice of praise 
and thanksgiving — the universal burst of gratitude, and won- 
der, and love, in songs of joy and transport, filling all its 
arches, and making all its pillars tremble. 

Now, what meetness for heaven can he have who has no 
taste for the service and worship of God on earth? To the 
house of God he comes with a thoughtless, wandering mind, 
and with no delight in its sacred duties. To secret prayer he 
is a stranger; or, if forced upon it by conscience, he only finds 
the more certainly how much he dislikes it. How much at a 
loss must he be to join in the notes of heaven, who has no 
taste for contemplating the glory of God, no eye for beholding 
him in his works, no delight in meditating on his perfections ! 
He has never seen his need of a Saviour, never sought re- 
demption by the blood of Christ, nor felt his obligations to 
him. How, then, can he fall at the feet of Jesus, and adore 
him in the songs of the redeemed ? What has an enemy of 



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 211 

God to do with employments and joys like these? Alas! lie 
knows not the meaning of the eternal song : " Worthy is the 
Lamb that was slain." There is not a single note in that song 
which he can sing, not a single sentiment which he can adopt, 
not a single ecstasy which he can feel. Love, and love only, 
produces all this ; and love he hath not. Admitted into that 
world, what has he gained ? An entrance into that temple 
which is filled with the presence and glory of God. What 
has he gained ? Consummate felicity — the perfection of hap- 
piness — all that the immortal spirit can desire — all that God 
can give % No ; he has obtained the liberty of serving God, 
day and night, with adoration, and love, and joy, and trans- 
port. But that God he hates, that employment he loathes; 
and, in the midst of all that ocean of blessedness, there is not 
one drop for him. On him, heaven were a gift bestowed in 
vain. 

REMARKS. 

1. Every impenitent sinner may be convinced, from his own 
experience, of the necessity of a new heart to fit him for 
heaven. 

Our blessed Lord has said : " Marvel not, that I say unto 
you, ye must be born again ;" " That which is born of the 
flesh, is flesh ; and that which is born of the Spirit, is spirit :" 
as if he had said, it is no cause for wonder that your moral 
character must be changed to fit you for heaven. If you re- 
flect on the nature of that world, the character of God, of 
saints, and of angels, their employments, and the sources of 
their happiness ; and then consider your own present disposi- 
tion toward these objects, there is nothing to be wondered at 
in this doctrine. The simple fact that heaven is a holy place, 
and that the sinner is unholy, settles this point to the full con- 
viction of every honest mind. The sinner cannot look at him- 
self, without the fullest testimony to the necessity of a new 
heart. He carries it in his own bosom. He knows that there 



212 HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 

is no peculiar transcendent sweetness in the name of Jesus to 
his soul — nothing in that beloved name, which makes heaven 
resound with gratulation and joy, in which he, with his pres- 
sent feelings, could find unmingled and endless bliss. He 
knows that, in this theme, he has never found delight, that 
his thoughts have moved in another channel, that his affections 
have been fixed on other objects. He knows what constant 
constraint he feels in the company of the pious on earth, what 
desire to quit their society, and what liberty, the moment he 
is permitted to rejoin those friends whose tastes and conver- 
sation are as carnal as his own. He knows that it is not his 
daily study, endeavor, and delight to draw near to God, to live 
to his glory, and to advance in fitness for his eternal presence. 
He knows that the nearer religious service brings him to God, 
the more clearly divine truth exhibits the necessity of re- 
nouncing the world, and exposes his guilt the more he dis- 
likes them. He knows that to attain the holy character and. 
holy happiness of heaven, is not the consummation of his 
wishes — the chief desire of his heart ; and he knows, by plain 
and inevitable consequence, that "except he be born again, 
he cannot see the kingdom of God." 

My dear hearers, let me bring this subject home to each one 
of you, whose conscience tells him that he is yet unholy, with- 
out love to God, without delight in his being and perfections. 
You may indulge strong hopes of heaven — doubtless you do ; 
you could not remain at ease without it. But God forbid 
that you should take up on slight grounds such a hope as this. 
And if you are unholy — seeing and knowing, as you must, 
that you are a stranger to the love of God — how can you in- 
dulge it? That God who cannot lie has declared, that yon 
cannot see his kingdom. All his attributes are pledged to ex- 
clude you from his blissful presence. We have seen that you 
cannot derive happiness from this world, when removed into 
that eternity which is just before you; that, in all that eter- 
nity, not a single object can be found to satisfy any one desire 
which you have ever known ; that your soul, stretching with 



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN. 213 

desire into immortality, must suffer eternal want. You have 
seen that, even were you admitted into heaven, there would 
be no happiness for you ; that all its joys spring from love to 
God, from the delight which is taken in the pleasures of its 
holy society, holy employments, and holy joys. No, fellow- 
sinner ; admitted into heaven, there is no song which you can 
sing. Love, and love only, sounds the notes of that world. 
You have no love. You could not sing. God, you do not 
love — the Lamb on the throne, you do not love ; and while 
angels and blessed spirits are shouting the praises of Jesus 
around the throne of God, you would stand aghast and amazed 
in eternal silence, a forsaken, lonely being — deriving nothing 
from their sources of joy, but an awful sense of God's holy 
presence, and a tormenting sight of his glories ; and while, with 
endless and boundless raptures, the heavenly host should cry, 
"Worthy is the Lamb ;" you could only utter, in the language 
of real feeling, " Oh, what a weariness is it !" Miserable 
wretch ! Surrounded with all that blesses the bright hosts ol 
glory, and unable to taste one particle of that bliss with which 
their cup overflows — a silent, solitary outcast in the midst ot 
heaven ! Search the whole extent of heaven, from one end to 
the other, you could not find an associate. Those who on 
earth dissolved the ties of friendship to separate from you, 
could not welcome you to, nor could you endure their society. 
Prophets would tarn indignant from you — apostles, and all 
the redeemed multitude, would behold you with terror, as still 
the enemy of their Saviour — angels and archangels, who never 
knew what sin was, would fly from you with consternation. 
The presence of an omnipotent God, " of purer eyes than to 
behold iniquity," thou canst not bear. Fly, then, from his 
throne. Fly from his tremendous presence. Fly from heaven 
— it fills thee with unutterable agonies. Hell is your only 
refuge — your only relief from the torments with which heaven 
would overwhelm the unholy soul ! 

But now the day of mercy shines; the voice of everlasting 
love is heard, calling you to life. God has no pleasure in 



214 HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HBAYEN. 

your death. Heaven now lifts up its everlasting doors, and 
throws open its everlasting gates. Jesus invites ; angels wait 
to witness your purpose to-day. And, sinner, shall it again 
be told in the courts of heaven that you again refuse to regard 
the calls of mercy ? Shall this day pass away, and no prepa- 
ration for heaven be begun ? With such unfitness for heaven, 
shall another hour — shall this bright hour of mercy — be wasted 
in increasing your fitness for hell — wasted in giving new power 
to every cause which ever did confirm the soul in sin, and 
plunge it into endless woe ? 

2. Christian brethren, " what manner of persons ought ye 
to be in all holy conversation and godliness ?" When a sinner 
— exposed to wrath — a sovereign God began a work in you 
which he will carry on to the end, and which, when finished 
will perfect your fitness for his eternal presence. Behold 
the change ! This heir of misery and slave of sin is re- 
deemed, and the grace of God is preparing him for the 
society, the employment and the joys of heaven. All those 
obstacles which once excluded you from the beatific vision of 
God are taken away, and that conformity of affections and 
desires to God, to angels and redeemed spirits is preparing 
you to partake of their blessedness. You are now journeying 
through a vale of tears ; you are now tempted and sorrowful. 
But your portion is not here ; your treasures are not here ; 
your home is not here ; "you seek a heavenly," and will soon 
be translated where there will be neither temptation nor pain, 
and where all tears will be wiped away. You shall soon be like 
the redeemed saints, like angels, like God, and near his throne. 
Your spiritual joys, now languid, partial and infrequent, shall 
soon be full, constant and eternal. One spirit shall reign 
through heaven ; one song employ every tongue. From glory 
to glory you shall be changed. You shall be like Jesus, for 
you shall see him as he is. Your God shall be all and in all, 
forever and ever. Amen. 



XVI. 

GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

Psalms vii. 2. 
"God is angry with the wicked every day." 

Weee any one of us to be placed completely in the power 
of some mysterious stranger, and especially did we know that 
our conduct had been such as naturally to awaken his dis- 
pleasure, we should feel a deep concern to ascertain what 
were his actual dispositions and purposes toward us. With 
constant solicitude, we should watch for something that 
would indicate his designs, and help us to decide what expec- 
tations we might entertain from him. Not so, however, do 
most men feel, when the being, in whose power they know 
they are, and whose displeasure they know they have justly 
provoked, is the almighty God. No subject, perhaps, is more 
cursorily thought of, by multitudes, than the manner in which 
they are constantly regarded by this great Being. With every 
cause for anxiety, they are even without the feelings of com- 
mon curiosity, and dismiss the inquiry, with a careless confi- 
dence that they are the objects of God's favor, and have no 
evil to expect from his hand. 

Widely different is the view of God given us in the revela- 
tion of God. The text, in accordance with the whole tenor of 
the Scriptures, represents wicked men as the objects of God's 
constant and high displeasure. " God is angry with the wicked 
every day." 

My design is — 

First, To explain what is meant by the anger of God ; and 



216 GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

Second, To confirm the declaration in the text. 

I. The word rendered anger in the Scriptures denotes a 
strong affection or emotion of mind, excited by injury or op- 
position from others, and which leads its subject to injure in 
return. 

Whether this affection can be lawful, or morally right, in 
any case — a question much debated — depends entirely upon 
another; viz., whether there can be a fit and proper object of 
such an emotion ? By this test, it is, indeed, sufficiently easy 
to decide that anger, as it commonly exists in the human 
bosom, and resulting, as it does, from a selfish regard to our 
own personal private interests, is wholly a selfish, malignant 
passion, and wholly sinful. Such an affection cannot, of 
course, pertain to the divine mind. Now, could anger be 
excited only by a regard to selfish interests, and were this the 
only meaning of the term, then we might be able to say what 
this language does not mean, but we would be unable to say, 
or even to conjecture, what it does mean. 

But, if there be an object proper to awaken this emotion — 
if, in the very nature of things, there be the same moral fit- 
ness for dislike and hatred toward one object, which there is 
in other objects for approbation and love, then anger, in such 
a case, is not a sinful or unworthy emotion. Now, there is 
such a fitness in some objects. Fiends aiming with fell spirit 
at the destruction of the souls of men, are as fit objects of 
hatred, as angels ministering to the heirs of salvation are of 
love. Anger, then, may have a fit and proper object, and be 
a morally right affection. 

God, as the moral governor of men, has interests to secure, 
and designs to accomplish, and this by their loyal, active co- 
operation, in obedience to his will. These interests and these 
designs are dictated by infinite wisdom and goodness, and are 
worthy of the God who formed them. 

Now, against the designs and interests of a perfect God, the 
wicked are arrayed in direct and open hostility. In this char- 
acter, they are the fit objects of God's anger. In other words. 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 217 

they are fit objects of that emotion which abhors their char- 
acter, and determines God to inflict punishment. 

The anger of God is only that indignation which benevo- 
lence itself must feel toward the enemies of all good. It is of 
the very nature of benevolence to show itself in different emo- 
tions, as its objects vary. So when God looks on sinners sim- 
ply in reference to their character as rebels against his govern- 
ment, and hostile to his perfect designs, his very benevolence 
regards them with that indignation which inflicts evil. Pie 
looks on them with anger — with the same emotion which now 
speaks in the terror of his threatenings, and will hereafter 
speak in the thunders of executed wrath. 

I proceed, as I proposed — 

II. To confirm the declaration in the text, "God is angry 
with the wicked every day." 

1. This truth is often affirmed in the Scriptures : "Thou art 
of purer eyes than to behold evil ;" "Thou hatest all workers 
of iniquity;" "The wrath of God is revealed from heaven 
against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men." 

When on the other hand, God forgives iniquity, he is repre- 
sented as turning away his anger — as turning from the fierce- 
ness of his anger — as not retaining his wrath — as reconciled — 
as pacified toward the objects of his wrath. In these and 
similar declarations, it is the obvious design of God to exhibit 
himself not as an indifferent spectator, or as the friend and 
protector of the wicked, but as a God who looketh upon them 
with anger. Why else is this language used in God's revela- 
tion of himself. Is it to convey no ideas to the minds of men, 
or none but the mere negative idea of exemption from the sin- 
ful passions of men ? Or rather, is it not to make a distinct 
and strong impression of the actual feelings of God toward the 
wicked — real emotions of the infinite Being, that in view of 
them the wicked may tremble for fear of him ? If not, the 
Bible is not a revelation. 

2. From the holiness of God. 

This attribute may be viewed in different ways, or under 
Vol.L-10 



218 GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

different aspects; one as it leads God to approve of holiness 
in his creatures. " The righteous Lord loveth righteousness." 
It can no more be supposed that God can have an affection of 
one kind toward an object, and not have the opposite affection 
toward an opposite object, than it can be that he is as destitute 
of affections as a statue. Just so certain, then, as God, from 
the perfection of his nature, regards holiness with approbation 
that leads him to bless its subject, so certain is it that he re- 
gards sin with that affection or emotion of mind the proper 
expression of which is the infliction of evil on its subject; in 
other words, with anger. 

But holiness also denotes contrast or separation in its orig- 
inal and primary application. The holiness of God may be 
viewed as the opposition of the divine nature to all moral im- 
purity and moral deformity. If, then, we would form just 
views of God as a holy God, we must look at the moral perfec- 
tion of God in its lofty separation from all moral defilement ; 
at the nature of God in its irreconcilable variance with all 
sin — its eternal, immutable contrariety to it. And what must 
be the degree of this perfection when it exalts God to such an 
elevation, that " the heavens are not clean in his sight," and 
that "angels are charged with folly?" And what must that 
perfection be which so revolts all the sensibilities of the God- 
head that, in the language of his prophet, he is shocked at the 
sight of it? How, in the sanctuary of his presence — how, 
under the pure eye of such a Being, must the sinner appear ! 
How must the divinity recoil from him ! How must the anger 
of God kindle into a lire of indignation, when one so vile offers 
to draw nigh ! And yet, under his eye the sinner lives and 
acts every day. So sure, then, as there is an omniscient and 
a holy God, so sure are the wicked the constant objects of his 
anger. 

3. From the justice of God and the tendency of sin. 

By the justice of God we understand the moral perfection of 
God as directed to uphold his moral government, and to secure 
its results. It is in this character that the Lord our God is a 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 219 

jealous God. Jealous for the glory of his name — jealous for 
the honor of his law — jealous for the accomplishment of his 
purposes. For the accomplishment of these designs — designs 
which give to God's dominion all its grandeur and worth — 
all the perfections of God stand committed. On this end — so 
worthy of a God — all the affections of God are h'xed. It is 
the only object compared with others on which the perfect 
God places any value. At this end, sin aims destruction. If 
the purposes of sin succeed, the purposes of God fail. If the 
purposes of sin succeed, the authority of God is trampled in 
the dust, his throne subverted from the foundation, his king- 
dom desolated of every vestige of happiness ; and instead of a 
universe blessed by a reigning God — blessed by the expres- 
sions of infinite benevolence in the communication of good — 
sin would reign, and fill with its unmitigated horrors and woes 
the expanse of God's creation. How, then, must the perpe- 
trator of deeds like these appear to a just God? What must 
be the moral aspect of an enemy to all, that the infinite God 
values ? With what other emotion but anger can God look 
upon him who is governed by a spirit like this ? 

4. That God is angry with the wicked is evident from their 
resemblance in character to those who experience the wrath 
of God in the world of punishment. 

The wicked in this world, and the wicked in the world of 
perdition, possess substantially the same character. If, then, 
this character awaken the anger of God in that world, no rea- 
son can be given why it does not also awaken his anger in 
this. It cannot be said that the anger of God expressed in the 
torments of the damned is to be ascribed simply to their 
greater measure of guilt ; for undoubtedly, there are multi- 
tudes under the light of the gospel, whose guilt is greater than 
that of multitudes on whom God now pours out his wrath, 
and who have abused no such blessings. It cannot be said 
that the moral deformity of sinners in this world is mitigated 
by certain amiable traits which pertain not to the character of 
the damned ; and that therefore while God is angry with one 



220 GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

class, lie is not with the other. There is no such mitigation 
of the moral deformity of the wicked here which exempts from 
an unqualified charge of sin in every voluntary action. Their 
moral character is made up of selfishness, and that is all that 
can be said of the prince of darkness. Nothing can be said in 
palliation or mitigation of their total depravity, which cannot 
be said with equal truth against his total depravity. If they 
speak truth, and show kindness to others, to subserve their 
selfish purposes, so does he. Otherwise his kingdom would 
be divided against itself, and could not stand. If they approve 
in their conscience of moral excellence, so does he. He con- 
fessed Christ to be " the holy one of God." If they in their 
conscience disapprove of what is selfish and sinful, so does he. 
He condemned Job as sustaining such a character. Satan 
does nothing but under the commanding principle of selfish- 
ness ; neither do wicked men. In point of principle in its real 
nature — that is, in substantial character — there is no real dif- 
ference between sinners in this world and the most depraved 
beings in the universe. There is no other sin but selfishness 
in any being. The wicked, then, cherish the essential princi- 
ple of all rebellion against God — the very spirit that rebelled 
against his throne in the heavens — the very spirit that now 
reigns in hell — the very spirit that has exiled this world from 
the favor of its Maker, and brings down his curse upon it — the 
very spirit that, unrestrained, would carry desolation through 
the empire of Jehovah, and, should God himself obstruct its 
progress, would rise on him with the temper of an infernal. 
And if such a character awakens the anger of God in hell, 
why does it not also on earth? It does; and against thou- 
sands who live only to abuse that forbearance that prolongs 
their day of mercy, the anger of God rises as high as against 
many who feel its full expression in the torments of the 
damned. 

5. That God is angry with the wicked, appears from many 
of God's dispensations toward them. 

The difference between the state of the righteous and that 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 221 

of the wicked in this life, strongly bespeaks the anger of God 
toward the latter. To the former, God has promised that all 
things shall work together for their good. To the latter, no 
real good is secured. To the former, every gift of divine 
bounty will prove a blessing ; to the other, there is no secur- 
ity that every earthly good will not prove an ultimate curse. 
To the one, under a sense of sin and guilt, the blood of Christ 
speaks peace — to the other, the reproaches and stings of con- 
science are a fearful prelude to the gn a wings of the worm that 
never dies. To the one, under the pressure of the ills and 
calamities of life, is secured the support of the everlasting arm; 
to the other, under the same afflictions, no refuge is pro- 
vided — no security given that even divine chastisement will 
serve any purpose, but to harden his heart, and augment his 
final doom. To the one is vouchsafed in the covenant of God, 
the privilege of asking and receiving — to the other, is made 
known only present exclusion from the mercy-seat ; no prom- 
ise of grace to awaken, or to satisfy. To the one, death — the 
last enemy — is divested of his terrors by the bright visions of 
Christian promise ; to the other, it is the day of darkness and 
despair — the termination of all good, the prelude of the hor- 
rors of the second death. To the one, the day of account is 
the day of triumph, the consummation of all that he had 
hoped, or prayed for, of all that, as an immortal being, he 
had expected, or can need — to the other, of meeting God in 
the terrors of an incensed Judge, to bear his anger in the in- 
flicted woes of damnation. Such is the record. Can more 
decisive proof be given that the wicked are the objects of 
God's present displeasure ? Why this amazing difference in 
all that is really substantial and important in his dispensations 
toward the righteous and the wicked, except that the one class 
are the objects of his love — the other of his anger? 

REMARKS. 

1. How false and dangerous to deny the reality of the di- 
vine anger. 
11* 



222 GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

With many it is a fashionable method of interpretation, to 
resolve all those texts in the Bible which speak of the anger 
of God, into a figure, and thus, in fact, to divest them of all 
definite meaning. Others adopt a still bolder expedient, and 
affirm that, to suppose a benevolent God, a God of love, exer- 
cises anger, or any emotion like anger, toward any of his 
creatures, is the height of absurdity. In reply to all this, and 
in view of what has been said, we ask, can there be a perfect 
God, without anger against sin, and against sinners ? Do you 
say, it represents God as the subject of the selfish passions of 
men ? God forbid ! It ascribes to God an attribute far more 
dreadful to the sinner — an attribute not at all resembling the 
fitful, capricious passion of anger in sinful man — not an attri- 
bute to be bribed, or changed, or pacified, while its object is 
the same ; but the righteous, immutable, holy anger of a God 
intent on his designs of infinite benevolence, an attribute re- 
sulting from the very perfections of the Godhead — an attri- 
bute which is sure to guard the empire of righteousness, and 
the stabilities of the eternal throne, though worlds sink under 
its just and full expressions against the wicked. And here 
the secret of this atheism is out. The wicked cannot bear to 
think of such a God. A God all kindness to them — a God 
who will regard rebels and loyal subjects with the same indis- 
criminating indulgence, is the God who is welcome to their 
imaginations, and in whom they are willing to believe. Let 
them persuade themselves that such an image is a reality. 
They may do it. They may disregard the reality that there 
is such a God as the Scriptures reveal — they may forget that 
God has proposed an. end worthy of himself in creation — that 
he has placed men under the high responsibilities of acting 
as friends or enemies — they may deny that they are made 
in God's image — sink themselves to insects of a day; and 
throw all the responsibility of their eternal destiny upon 
their Maker, instead of acting under it. They may think or 
say God must take care of the interests of his own creatures, 
— God will not punish — God is not displeased ; and this even 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 223 

when living amid the shafts of his indignation falling thick 
and fast around them. Thus they may efface from their 
minds the dread of him — they may force away from them the 
convictions and the alarms of guilt — they may benumb the 
soul into the apathy of death, and sleep away these hours of 
their probation in the hope of meeting an indulgent God in 
eternity. But, oh ! the reality is not changed. Still in those 
heavens there is a " God angry with the wicked every day." 
There is a God looking out from the dark cloud of his ven- 
geance upon them, who, in a moment can, and in a moment 
may, make them know, by making them feel his wrath, in all 
its tribulation and anguish in hell. 

2. If God be angry with the wicked every day, how vain is 
the belief that they can secure his favor by any thing they do 
while continuing in sin ! 

There is no conceit of which the minds of sinners are more 
fond, none to which they cling with more unyielding tenacity, 
even under religious awakening, than this, that they can, and 
shall do, something to propitiate the favor of God without 
repentance. But here let such dreaming end. " God is 
angry with the wicked every day." Not with the wicked 
of some particular character, but with the wicked of every 
character. The open, grossly wicked ; the decently morally 
wicked ; the stupidly wicked ; the awakened, anxious, pray- 
ing wicked ; — the wicked, young or old, wise or ignorant, rich 
or poor, moral or immoral, stupid or awakened, up to the 
moment of his repentance, is still wicked, and still God is 
angry with him. 

I know, my hearers, how hard it is to believe this ; I know 
how reluctant the heart is to admit that nothing short of the 
surrendery of the heart to God can secure the favor of God. 
But so it is, and so it must be. Until you can change the 
essential nature of God himself — until you can effect such a 
transformation in his perfections that his holiness and justice 
and goodness shall approve of sin — until you can contrive 
some expedient by which you can remain under the curse of 



224 GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

God, and yet be the object of his complacency — until yon can 
sustain the very character which draws down his wrath in hell, 
and yet be the object of his approbation — until every dispen- 
sation of God in his providence, which is dictated by his dis- 
pleasure, shall become tokens of his favor — until all this can 
be done, or until you give God your heart, you will remain 
the object of his constant anger. Do what else you will — 
reform, seek, read, weep, pray — you are wicked, your char- 
acter without one trait of alleviation, is that of an enemy of 
God and of all good, and yourself a fit object of abhorrence. 
And this I say not to discourage — not to prevent your efforts 
to repent, but to induce you to abandon every thing else and 
force you to such efforts, as affording all the hope there is for 
you. Do you say it will do no good ? Try it. Do you say 
you cannot become a Christian in this way ? Try it. Do you 
say you cannot give your heart to God so long as he is angry 
with you ? Try it — try it ; for except ye repent of your sins 
against an offended God, you must bear his anger to all eter- 
nity. 

3. How changed is the condition of the righteous ! 

Once he was the object of God's anger, and all that is dark 
and appalling in such a relation to that infinite Being, filled 
his prospect for eternity. But how changed his state ! By re- 
pentance for sin — so reasonable a service — he has become the 
object of his everlasting love. That throne of wrath is changed 
into a throne of grace and mercy ; that frown of anger into the 
smile of reconciliation. The benevolence of God, kindling 
with indignation to destroy, is benevolence directing its in- 
tensest affections and pledging its richest gifts to bless. Om 
nipotence once committed to destroy, encircles with the ever- 
lasting arms of protection. ~No hour of weakness, but he may 
lean on that arm. Under no wants, but he may ask of him, 
who will freely give him all things. jSTo day of darkness and 
distress but God is his refuge. Fearless, confiding, cheerful, 
happy, triumphant, in life, in death, his language is, " Lo, this 
is my God, I have waited for him, he will come and save me." 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 225 

Oh, how unlike the man who has nothing to hope for from his 
God — who sustains no relation to him but that of danger ! 
What prospects for eternity once were his ! What prospects 
now open before him as eternity and its realities come near ! 
Oh, Christian, you talk of the love of God ; but you know 
nothing of it, till you know the wrath of God from which it 
delivers ! Estimate that love as you will in the emotions of 
God toward you, when from your throne in the heavens you 
shall see its length, and breadth, and height, and depth, as 
you behold the wicked in the ascending smoke of their tor- 
ment, and look around on the glories of your everlasting 
abode. 

4. How awful is the situation of the stupid sinner ! 

God is angry with him every day, and he heeds it not. He 
is the fit object of God's anger — a fit object of abhorrence to 
the very benevolence of God. Jehovah could not be a holy 
and just God, and not regard the sinner with displeasure. 
Thus God does regard him every day — constantly. Here, 
fellow-sinners, you are. Your life is a vapor — you cannot 
prolong it a moment. That supporting, forgotten hand of an 
angry God withdrawn, and you sink to death and hell in a 
moment. You have no means of appeasing the divine anger, 
none of preventing its immediate and full expression in the 
lake of lire. You sustain the same character in the sight of 
God, which has drawn down his wrath upon thousands of your 
fellow-beings. You have no mediator to interpose in your 
behalf — no promise of God to plead — no expedient by which 
to prevail on God to defer deserved vengeance — not a reason 
can you give, why you should not sink under its fearful in- 
fliction this moment. You are living only to multiply your 
provocations, and to augment his anger. Thus is the storm of 
almighty wrath gathering over you, ready to burst upon your 
head ; and you are asleep — yes, asleep, while God is angry 
with you every moment. You can turn away your thoughts 
from that awful Being — you can summon the preacher to the 

tribunal of criticism, and pronounce sentence upon the ser- 
10* 15 



GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 

mon; or you can recur to other topics of thought, and go 
away to plan your business and your pleasures. But stop, sin- 
ner. God is angry with you. The fact — the awful fact, has 
been proved. You know it; your stupidity and unconcern 
will not alter it. You can forget God — but God will not forget 
you. Still, at each successive moment, he looks upon you 
with anger. You may natter yourself with the delusion that 
life will be prolonged. But the reality in the heavens is a 
God angry with you — angry with you every day. Take, then, 
fellow-sinner, this truth away with you — think of it wherever 
you are — whatever you do — think of it, God is angry with 
me — God is angry with me. 

And if you forget it — if you disregard it — remember you 
add another provocation to God to come out in the fierceness 
of his wrath against you. See what a bold and determined 
spirit of rebellion you have — that the known acknowledged 
reality of an angry God shakes not your purpose. And should 
this purpose continue, as we fear it will in many, till the day 
of God's executed wrath arrives — should you, as you may, be- 
fore that declining sun shall rise again, know what the anger 
of God is, by feeling it in hell, then I am clear of your blood. 
I have told you — no, the voice of inspiration hath told you — 
that God is angry with you. This remembered hour of mercy 
— these remembered walls and seats — this desk — this voice — 
will witness to your memory ; the white throne and the Judge 
upon it — the myriads of all nations — your own consciences — 
the rolling years and ages of tribulation and despair will wit- 
ness — God, as he deals the strokes of his wrath without miti- 
gation and without end, will witness that to-day you deliber- 
ately resolved still to defy an angry God. 

Oh, then, will you not now make God your friend? By 
repenting of sin — by sorrow for the basest ingratitude — by 
hating and renouncing a character which God hates — you be- 
come the object of his everlasting love. That throne of wrath 
is changed into a throne of grace and mercy — that frown of 
anger into the smile of reconciliation. The benevolence of 






GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED. 227 

God — now kindling with indignation to destroy — will direct 
its intensest affections, and pledge its richest gifts to bless you. 
Omnipotence — committed to destroy sonl and body in hell — 
will encircle you with the everlasting arms of protection. ISTo 
hour of weakness but you may lean on that arm ; under no 
wants but you may ask of him, who freely giveth all things. 
No day of darkness and distress, but God is your refuge. 
Fearless, confident, cheerful, triumphant in life and in death, 
you shall say, " Lo, this is my God ; I have waited for him ; 
he will come and save me." Oh, how unlike him who has 
nothing to hope for from his God — who sustains no relation to 
the Almighty but that of danger ! Oh, what will you think 
of the friendship of thy God, when from a throne in the heav- 
ens you shall look downward on the wicked and see the as- 
cending smoke of their torment! And oh, what will you 
think of it should you look upward and see your companions 
in the paradise of God, yourself the victim of the unchange- 
able wrath of the eternal God ! 



XVII. 

THE GOODNESS OF GOD DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 

Eomans ii. 4. 
"Not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance." 

Theee is no more striking and decisive proof of moral 
degradation, than to overlook and pervert the kindness of a 
benefactor. Unmerited favors create obligation on the part 
of him who receives them, not only to gratitude, but to that 
use of them intended by the giver. Have you ever bestowed 
your alms on a poor mendicant, to shelter him from the in- 
clemency of the storm, or to relieve the pains and suiferings 
of hunger, and found him wasting your gifts in intemperate 
and brutal indulgence — how strongly has it evinced to you his 
extreme degradation of character ! Has a parent, to reclaim 
a wayward son, lavished upon him his kindness — has he gone 
after him to the hovel of infamy, and brought him to his pa- 
ternal dwelling, clothed his nakedness, anxiously studied the 
supply of his wants, and again put in his power the means of 
reputation, of competence, and of comfort ; and has the only 
result been a perversion of all his beneficence, to purposes of 
crime and wretchedness, a father's broken heart can tell, how 
low, how lost his child has become ! 

It is to a similar perversion of the goodness of God, that 
the apostle calls our attention in the text. " Or despisest thou 
the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffer- 
ing, not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to 
repentance?" 



THE GOODNESS OE GOD, ETC. 229 

My object, in the present discourse, is simply to consider 
the tendency of the goodness of God to lead sinners to re- 
pentance. 

It has this tendency — 

I. As it enforces the commandments of God. 

The commands of God are not merely the commands of a 
being who has the prerogative to govern by virtue of his 
power and supremacy — not merely the commands of one 
whom it is our interest to obey, and whom, if we would re- 
gard those interests, necessity obliges us to obey; they are 
not merely the commands of a being of absolute perfection, 
and who, by them, aims to produce in us the highest elevation 
of character, and the highest measure of happiness ; but they 
are the commands of our benefactor — our benefactor, amid all 
our rebellion, and all our ingratitude. It is this God who 
commands us to repent. The God who, having made us of 
nothing, still keeps us — the God, in whom "we live, and 
move, and have our being" — the God, whose care and whose 
presence are ever surrounding us — the God who, from morn- 
ing to night, and from night to morning, watches over us, 
attends us while we sleep, and guides us when awake — who 
goes with us in all the business of the world — returns us in 
safety to our homes — gives us our friends, our health, our 
raiment, our food, and never, for a single instant, withdraws 
the notice of that eye that never slumbers, and the protection 
of that hand that is never weary. It is this God who com- 
mands us to repent. Now, we require a fair estimate of his 
claims. Has he, as our almighty Sovereign, a right to gov- 
ern — has he this right inalienable — ought we to obey ; and do 
the blessings heaped upon us add nothing to our obligation ? 
"When he asks the affections of that alienated heart, which 
receives its every beat from the impulse of his power — when 
he asks the devotedness of that life, which owes its every hour, 
and every moment, to his sustaining right hand — when he 
draws around us such a circle of enjoyments — when he still 
multiplies his gifts of nature and providence, and when his 

17 



230 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 

gifts steal away our hearts from the Giver, still keeps open 
the way, through the blood of his Son, for our return, and 
still invites and welcomes us back to his love, is there no 
weight added to our obligations ? Has this all-providing God 
no claim on us by his mercies ? 

This tendency is seen — 

II. As it appeals to the tenderest and strongest sensibilities 
of our nature. 

There is no principle of human nature, fallen and degraded 
as it is, that is more obvious, none that is more commonly re- 
cognized in our intercourse with one another, or that remains 
in the descending progress of depravity longer with us, than 
that which leads us to requite kindness with kindness. If we 
would persuade a child to self-denial — if we would secure the 
faithfulness of a servant, or if we would command the co- 
operation of our equals, we know that we are never so sure of 
our object, as when we assail them by the influence of kind- 
ness. This principle lingers about our nature in the last and 
lowest stages of wickedness ; and the celebrated Howard, who 
visited the prisons and dungeons of Europe, those habitations 
of vice and crime, has told us that there is a way of managing 
even the most hardened malefactors, and that way is, by treat- 
ing them with tenderness, and showing them that you have 
humanity. 

There is an anecdote related of a distinguished minister of 
the gospel, which furnishes so striking an illustration of this 
principle of our nature, that I may be justified in relating it. 
On a journey, he was stopped by a highwayman, and called 
on to deliver his purse, with the weapon of death presented at 
his breast. " Wait," said the man of God, " for one moment ;" 
and instantly fell on his knees, and offered a fervent prayer 
for the unhappy man before him. The murderer stood silent, 
and listened. When the holy man had finished his supplica- 
tion, he said to him for whom he had prayed : " Do you not 
wish for some better employment than this ; some other means 
of a livelihood ?" The answer was in the affirmative. " Come 



DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 231 

then," said the minister, to such a place, naming his own resi- 
dence, " and without ever divulging this act of yours while 
you live, such a provision shall be made for you." lie confided 
in the assurance of one so intent on his welfare ; became a 
member of his own family — an humble disciple of Christ ; 
and, after a life of exemplary piety, died at the age of sixty, 
when, in his funeral sermon, the minister related these facts 
concerning him. JSTow, my hearers, you can see it. Precisely 
on this principle, and by this expedient, does God assail the 
hearts of sinners. To recall them to himself, he does not rely 
merely on his authority over us — he does not resort merely to 
his terrors to alarm us — he does not attempt to carry the 
human heart by storm. He, indeed, reveals enough of his 
terrors to make us tremble while going on in our inquity; but 
here, so to speak, he does not place his reliance. He who 
searcheth the heart, well knows that, amid all its darkness 
and corruptions, there is yet another and a surer spring that 
can be touched. And, as if it were the only one, he seems to 
have intrusted the whole cause of our recovery to the mani- 
festations of his loving-kindness to us. Here, he plies us with 
every proof and every expression of his love, as if no obduracy 
of heart, no sottishness, or hardihood of crime, could shut him 
away from access to us. The power of the remedy reaches to 
the utmost limits of hope, and even of possibility. If any 
species of moral influence can prevail — if hopeless degeneracy 
does not mock all that the wisdom and the mercy of God can 
do to persuade men to return — if there remains one solitary 
hold in the guilty bosom of man, which God can reach, he 
has adopted the effectual means of reaching it. God reveals 
himself. God in Christ, he unfolds himself in the decided 
and attractive aspect of the God of mercy ; he comes to this 
world of rebellion, a beseeching suppliant for their return ; 
he gives it the charter of their peace, sealed with the blood 
of his own Son. Every thing to touch sympathy, gratitude, 
and the secret place of tenderness and tears. Thus that softer 
part of our nature, which yields to the demonstrations of kind- 



232 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 

ness, that which is quickest to feel and last to become unfeel- 
ing, is assailed. Thus, the very influence that has tamed the 
vilest malefactor in his dungeon — aye, that would seem enough 
to make a devil's heart silent, is poured on these prisoners of 
hope — the mighty attraction of the love of a God, on the lost 
creatures of his power ! 

This tendency is seen — 

III. As it discovers to us the true character of God. 

God is love, and all the expressions of his kindness to us 
are only a manifestation, bringing that character before us, in 
the nearest and most impressive manner. "We may contem- 
plate moral excellence in another, and admire and love it, 
while the being who shall possess it, may never have been 
called to show kindness to us. But let us become the objects 
of that kindness — let it fix its care and tenderness on us, and 
lavish its blessings on us ; and we find a new and stronger 
emotion rising in our hearts, and fixing our strongest affection 
on the object of so much excellence. And if we have to such 
a friend been unkind or unfaithful, how will the swellings of 
grief take hold on our heart, and the tears of repentance flow 
when we come again, -under a sense of his excellence, mani- 
fested still and ever, in so much kindness to us ! It is thus the 
goodness of God leadeth to repentance — it unvails in clearest, 
brightest manifestation the perfection of his character, direct- 
ing all its cares, its solicitude, its tenderness to us. We — you 
and I — are ever its objects, as if he had no other creature to 
bless. True, we see not the glory of him who is invisible. 
But as if to make np for this, and more than to make up for 
this, he comes to ns in a more impressive revelation of him- 
self. He opens upon us the treasures of his goodness, and 
brings ns to learn and to feel what he is, in our own experi- 
ence. Did I say we do not see him ? "We do see him, as we 
see any other spirit ; we see him, as we see any other bene- 
factor ; we see him, in his acts — in his doings — in his gifts. 
These tell us, what a friend to us our God is. These are but 
the tenderness, the smiles of love, beaming in the face of him 



DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 233 

whom no man can see. These — these (ceaseless as our mo- 
ments) open to our view — what ? The heart of infinite good- 
ness — the ardor, the strength, the whole dimensions of God's 
moral perfection concentrated upon us as its object — lavishing 
its gifts, falling warm from the hand of his bounty, upon our 
unworthy heads. So it is, my hearers, God fastens on us these 
cords of his love, and binds them on us at every step. He 
constrains us to feel all the attractions of his Godhead, in our 
own experience of his love. He obliges us, if we will persist 
in our alienation from him, to sunder these cords, and break 
away from that which binds heaven itself to his throne. We 
must shut our eyes and harden our hearts against that assem- 
blage of attributes, which wakes the songs that echo through 
heaven's eternal arches, and makes all its pillars tremble — 
against that God, who longs to show his capacity to bless, in 
blessing us. Oh, who can, who will tear himself away from 
the embrace of eternal mercy, to plunge into everlasting burn- 
ings ! 

TV. The expressions of God's goodness show this tendency, 
in their number, their nature, and their adaptation to this end. 

In the number of these blessings. "What a decided expres- 
sion is made of the goodness of God to us in the countless 
blessings he pours upon us, while we are evil and unthankful ! 
The sufferings we feel, guilty as we are, are for the most part 
of our own procuring, and no more than are necessary to re- 
mind us of the folly and the miseries of sin ; while, with pa- 
ternal solicitude and indulgence, he heaps upon us his gifts 
of kindness, which we continually pervert, and prolongs the 
season of enjoyment and trial, which we waste. Would we 
count the number of our blessings? As the sands of the sea, 
they are without number. It is his sun that lights our every 
path ; it is his earth on which we tread so firmly ; it is his air 
that circulates freshness and health around our dwellings ; it 
is his rain that feeds the luxuriance of our fields ; it is his 
heavens that drop plenty and abundance into our hands to 
satisfy the wants of his dependent children. Count your 



234 THE aOODOSS OF god 

blessings. Count every thing you delight in, and every thing 
you hope for; go round the circle of enjoyments, and find 
what real want is unprovided for ; count the daily gifts in 
infancy, in youth, in manhood, in old age. When have you 
been without blessings, rich and numerous blessings, from the 
hand of God ? Count, then, your moments, count each breath, 
count each beating pulse, and the multitude of blessings which 
surround you, while each passing throb is felt, and then shall 
this sinner against God, and heir of hell, learn something of 
the loving-kindness of his Maker. And for what are all these 
blessings bestowed ? Is it that we deserve them ? ISTo. Is it 
that God has complacency in our character, and regards us as 
fit objects of all this kindness ? ~No. Is it that he cannot be 
glorious ; and strip us of every good thing, and leave us naked 
before the storm of his wrath ? No ; it is that he may prove 
to us how able he is to bless — how intent he is to bless. It is 
that we may not, cannot mistake him, cannot doubt, cannot 
distrust his love ; that thus with the cords of love and bands 
of a man, he may draw us to himself. 

In the nature of these blessings — multifarious as they are — 
we see and know that there is not one of them, nor all of them, 
that can become a satisfying portion to man. Regarded as 
the means of complete happiness, the experience of the world 
for six thousand years pronounces them " vanity and vexation 
of spirit." But with equal certainty we trace the fitness of all 
of them to the great end for which they are given — the end of 
our probation. In this pilgrimage to a better world, our 
divine Benefactor has thus furnished us with every accommo- 
dation, given us nothing, unless by our perversion of it, that 
can draw away the heart from him and render us indifferent 
to our eternal interests. Every blessing comes from his hand 
with this inscription : " Take not this for your portion, but 
receive it with thanksgiving, and use it with reference to your 
eternal well-being. Take it ; take all these gifts as the pledge, 
the proofs of the love of the Creator, to his own creature — the 
proofs that the benevolence of thy God longs for thy love in 



DESIGNED TO KECLAIM. 235 

return, and to flow forth on thee, in a pure abundant stream 
of good, forever and ever." Look for a moment at this influ- 
ence in another light ; it is not a single insulated part of man's 
nature to which God appeals ; 'it is the whole man — all that 
there is in him to feel — the entire sensibility of a mortal, and 
of an immortal being. Every capacity of good and of evil 
is appealed to ; that capacity of good from food and drink ; that 
capacity of joy, in all the tender relations of life and every 
organ of sense. The eye — what visions of beauty and grandeur 
meet us on every side to show us his handy-work; the ear — 
what melodies wake us in the morning, and cheer and gladden 
our hearts in all our ways ; amid what fragrance we live, 
dropping from every leaf and every flower ; what scenes of 
delighted activity we move in! Through every sense, through 
every inlet of gladness and joy, God is ever cheering, gladden- 
ing, delighting the heart of man, to draw forth its affections to 
himself. Pre-eminently in the work of our Redemption does 
God force upon our notice the longings, and open to us the 
fullness of a Father's heart. Here he comes to us, with every 
assurance of his love, even to an oath : "As I live," saith the 
Lord, " I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ;" with 
every entreaty of pity and of grief, even to the sorrows and 
anguish of parental bereavement and brokenness of heart: 
" My heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled 
together." !Nor are these assurances empty and unmeaning; 
there is here no want of sincerity — no failure of ample provis- 
ion for our acceptance — no mocking of our wretchedness. It 
is not God who says, " Be ye warmed and be ye filled ; go in 
peace," and giveth nothing. His love is not in word, but in 
deed ; and to prove it he sent his Son into the world. He de- 
clared that in him " dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead 
bodily," and has let us see, in his tears, his agonies, and his 
love for us, what a God we have to deal with. Mark, my 
hearers, what has been done, and for what. Rather than lose 
forever fallen, ruined man, God has laid on the head of Jesus 
the full weight of an atonement for a world — rather than lose 



236 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 

forever fallen, ruined man, Jesus has travailed in the greatness 
of his strength, magnified th$ law, sustained the majesty of a 
reigning God, unbarred the everlasting doors, and leveled 
every obstacle to our return to life and to God. This he has 
done, by bearing the wrath due to this world of rebellion. 
And now, it is on this foundation that the overtures of for- 
giveness and the calls of entreaty are made to us — now it is 
that we hear the voice of a reconciling and beseeching God — 
now, from that cross, it breaks from the lips of him who has 
the form, and countenance, and heart, and sympathies of God 
manifest in the flesh ; and thus it is that the mighty attraction 
which binds the holy universe to the great Eternal, is brought, 
in all its sweetness, and charms, and energy, to bear on the 
heart of man. 

V. Look at this tendency, as it is illustrated by facts. 

We do not suppose that the attractive influence of divine 
goodness is the only means of leading sinners to repentance, 
nor that its influence is ever unaccompanied by a sense of 
obligation and of guilt. Still, no sinner probably ever would 
be converted unless God were manifested to the mind, as a 
God gracious and merciful. " There is forgiveness witli thee, 
that thou mayest be feared." When God is shown to the sin- 
ner, reconciling the world unto himself; when he hears his 
entreaties of tenderness, then, if ever, he awakens — then he 
listens, and is won by love so great. What illustrations of 
this have we while the Saviour was on the earth. I need only 
turn you to his works of mercy among the lame and halt, the 
blind and deaf. In how many hearts did he plant the domin- 
ion of his love, by these acts of kindness ! Behold the woman 
in the house of Simon. Look at the frowning Pharisee ; but 
did Jesus frown on the sinner for whom he designed to die ? 
did this sinner herself fear to approach the pure and spotless 
Saviour ? Oh ! she knew who it was ; she knew what love 
for sinners that was, which came "to seek and save that which 
was lost." And fearless,- with a broken heart, "she washed 
his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her 



DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 237 

liead. On the day of Pentecost, the great design of the death 
of the Son of God was unfolded to his murderers ; and three 
thousand were won to contrition and love. Look, too, at the 
father of the returning prodigal. While the lost, returning 
child is yet a great way off, he runs, falls on his neck, and 
kisses him ; calls for the best robe, to be brought and put 
upon him ; commands the feast, the songs, and the joys of the 
happy family. This, this is the image of divine love toward 
us. And, if a doubt can remain of the love of God to the 
guilty, I point you again to the chief of sinners. There, in the 
paradise of God, an example to all that hereafter believe, 
placed on one of heaven's highest thrones, and wearing one of 
its brightest crowns. Saul of Tarsus is in heaven, uniting his 
songs with the souls of those he murdered on earth. And no 
guilty bosom need distrust the love and mercy of a redeeming 
God. 

It is this very influence that will form the tie that will bind 
together the whole family of God in heaven and on earth. 
And when the redeemed shall be assembled before the throne 
above, they will feel the love of God their Saviour, still chang- 
ing them into the same image, from glory to glory. While 
they recount his blessings, they will still find that it is to a 
sense of that love they owe the highest raptures of immortal- 
ity. It will be the beaming kindness of him who sits upon 
the throne, that will awake the highest transports of love and 
praise in return ; and it will be the reciprocation of this love, 
among those who have fellowship with the Father, and his 
Son, and with one another, that will cause the joy of heaven 
to be full. It is that which will open those fountains, amid the 
throne of God and the Lamb, and pour forth those rivers of 
pleasure and fullness of joy at God's right hand forevermore. 

Such, my dear hearers, is the influence with which God as- 
sails your hearts, to recover you from sin and death. He 
leaves not his high and rightful authority over you, to a soli- 
tary influence, but he enforces that by the benefactions of a 
God. He appeals not only to the most powerful spring of 



238 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 

human action, but presses that appeal even to the very last 
vestige of human sensibility, leaving you not till he has tried 
the last avenue that the direst depravity can shut against him. 
To evince his kindness, and to perpetuate its attractive power, 
to win your heart to himself, he has multiplied his blessings 
from the moment of your being. He has given you blessings, 
in their nature exactly fitted to draw your hearts to himself ; 
blessings, rich beyond all price, enough to fill and overwhelm 
the soul with gratitude and praise. He has brought the same 
moral influence to bear upon you, that has converted, and will 
convert millions of our race, and that will bind together, and 
bless forever his holy kingdom in all its harmonies and joys. 

And now let me bring the subject to a personal applica- 
tion. 

1. Some of you profess to have felt the influence of the love 
of God your Saviour. You have seen, in the blessings of 
providence and grace, the God of mercy aiming to lead you 
back from sin, and to draw you to himself. You have felt 
the influence in your hearts. Has love begotten love ? In the 
blessings which God has given you, have you discovered the 
excellence and glory of his character, and have that excellence 
and glory awakened and enthroned a new aifection in your 
heart ? Has this new affection, awakened by your perception 
of the divine excellence, brought with it godly sorrow that 
worketh repentance ? Have you felt the baseness of sin, as 
committed against a God of such perfection ? God is love ; 
and it is this character of God, seen through the gifts it im- 
parts, that gives to repentance its relentings, and that thus 
establishes within us, in its fullest efficacy, the principle of 
new obedience. Is it thus with you ? Then has the manifested 
good will of God toward you, not been lost upon you — then 
you have been brought to feel that attractive energy which 
will fix your heart on the fountain of infinite and eternal 
blessedness — then have you felt that influence that will bind 
your soul to God, in sweet, and holy, and animated obedience 
— then will you, under God's continued mercies of providence 



DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 239 

and grace, be changed into the same image, from glory to 
glory — then will you rise to that world, where the blaze of his 
glory will beam on your enraptured sight, and call forth from 
your lips the song of the redeemed: "Blessing, and honor, 
and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the 
throne, and unto the Lamb forever. 

2. What dire depravity dwells in the heart of man. 

How will you measure the strength of depravity in a moral 
and accountable being ? How will you measure it in those 
beings, who once stood before the throne of God, and looked 
at his uncovered glories, and rose up in the hardihood of re- 
bellion against it, and who now mutter execration and blas- 
phemies against him ? " According to what a man hath, and 
not according to what he hath not," you judge of his guilt. 
And now, what is the strength of that depravity which braves 
defiance at all that influence which God lets in upon the heart 
of the sinner. Tell me, O sinner, with the commands of God 
pressed upon you by his kindness, with every sensibility of 
your soul assailed by the glories of God, as they are brought 
to your knowledge, and your experience, and home to your 
heart by all the wonders of his grace — say, what other sinner 
against God has such a heart as yours ? Come, let us look at 
this matter as it is. See in the agonizing Jesus what a God 
you are dealing with — hear his entreaties — hear his accents, 
more tender than angels use. Look on that heart of kindness ; 
how full, how ardent, how tender, how it heaves with emo- 
tion, how ready to break in its agony of affection for you; 
look at your own heart, cold and hard as a rock — not one 
tribute of affection — not one return of grateful obedience have 
you rendered. And still you are determined not to render it. 
Still, while all the love and mercy of God, and all the calls of 
Jesus, heaven, hell, invite you; while that Saviour opens to 
your view the heart of redeeming love, and tells you he de- 
sires nothing, he longs for nothing so much, as the return of 
love to him ; while all the attractions that bind angels to the 
rapturous service of their God draw you, you resist ; while 



240 THE GOODNESS OF GOD 

the full blaze of glory and blessedness falls on your heart, it 
is shut against, and shielded against it, bent on sin and rebel- 
lion. My dear hearers, this is reality. Here you are amid 
these efforts of eternal mercy to save you — thus averse to God, 
thus desperate in sin, thus hardening the heart to adamant 
against all the attractions and the charms of redeeming love. 
Oh ! ought not such a heart to relent ? Is not here cause for 
shame, and grief, and tears? Let this one thought, that you 
Ka/ve such a heart, break it. Oh, come to-day, and bow in 
ingenuous, holy contrition before thy God ! 

3. And now, my dear hearers, is there no one of you whom 
I can invite and persuade to come back to the God against 
whom you have sinned ? Have you not been ungrateful long 
enough — long enough grieved and broken again and again 
your Saviour's heart, and caused his tears to flow over you? 
Fellow-sinner, God loves you as much as he says he does; 
Jesus loves you as much as ail his agonies for you testify — 
and will you reject all the blessings of eternal mercy? — bless- 
ings which God is so anxious to bestow upon you ; will you 
still shut your heart against such a God and such a Saviour? 
Come, then, and lie at the feet of injured love — come and 
accept all that God longs to give you — pardon, grace, and 
eternal glory. But if you will not, if you resolve still to dis- 
regard and despise these entreaties of God's eternal love, what 
agonizing reflections, what a deep and awful perdition await 
you in hell, should you be summoned to the bar of judgment 
• — a despiser of all the love, and grace, and goodness of God 
your Saviour ! Oh ! fellow-sinner, it would be enough to go 
on in sin, and enter eternity in contempt of the high mandate 
of God's eternal throne; but what will it be to break away 
from the arms, from the very bosom of redeeming love ? — what 
will it be to take the firm attitude of an unyielding rebel 
against the God of grace, and to meet your doom under the 
indignation kindled by such ingratitude — what will it be to 
reflect that you forced your way to the deepest hell, in despite 
of all that the power of love and grace of a redeeming God 



DESIGNED TO RECLAIM. 241 

could do to save you ? Can you bear such a doom ; will you 
hazard it another hour ? Oh ! come ye who love not your 
Saviour and give him these hearts, so cold, so hard against 
him. This is his will — this the sincere and longing desire of 
his love. 'Tis love calling you to return love. It may be 
done, and done now. Oh ! set yourself to it ; bring before 
you the glories of a perfect God, and stir up your heart to the 
heaven-preparing affection. Look, think, meditate till you 
can love. God's authority commands, his glories attract; 
heaven, with its crowns of life, invites ; mercy weeps over 
you ; no mother's tears ever fell so tender o'er a dying child ; 
Jesus that died once for you, and could die again to save you, 
stands, and knocks, and waits, and pleads, "till his locks are 
wet with the drops of the night ;" and this to melt that heart of 
stone, and draw forth its affections to your God. Oh ! then 
love him — love God ; love that being whom angels love, and 
whose love shall be even more welcome than theirs ; then with 
them you shall have fellowship with him ; then, not hell, 
where his wrath burnetii, but the heaven of his glory, shall 
be your final, your eternal home — there you shall dwell, bear- 
ing his likeness — there partake in its purity, its bliss, its joys 
— and eternity shall tell the rest, for what God has said, God 
will do. 

Oh ! thou prodigal from thy heavenly Father's house — thou 
lost child of his love — come back — come back to his arms of 
mercy — to the paradise of his glory — as thy eternal home. 
Heaven, in new songs, shall tell you its joys; angels, and the 
redeemed together, shall welcome your return ; and God shall 
approve and heighten the joy, saying, " My son was dead, and 
is alive again, was lost and is found." 

Vol. I.— 11 16 



XVIII. 

PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

Isaiah lv. 7. 

" Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and 
let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, 
for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither 
are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than 
the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your 
thoughts." 

If there be any one perfection of God, the reality of which 
he forces upon human belief, it is that of his pardoning mercy. 
He is said to be rich in mercy — plenteous in mercy — abund- 
ant in mercy. His mercy is said to be great unto the heavens, 
and great above the heavens. He delighteth in mercy — he 
keepeth mercy for thousands. His mercy endureth forever. 
But our text not only magnifies the mercy of God, but, as if 
to meet every doubt and every difficulty of unbelief, exalts it 
above all human conception. The prophet, or rather God by 
his prophet, here sets at naught all human reasoning on the 
subject — as if he had said, your thoughts are gloomy thoughts; 
your ways are marked by an imperfect, stinted benevolence 
at best. You think a few offences may be forgiven, and your 
way is at most to forgive seven times. You think small 
offences may be overlooked — sins of inadvertence and surprise, 
sins of no peculiar aggravation, sins of infirmity, and sins that 
do no great harm in the world. But saith God, " My thoughts 
are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith 
the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so 
are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 243 

your thoughts. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un- 
righteous man his thoughts : and let him return unto the Lord, 
and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God for he will 
abundantly pardon." 

The subject for our present consideration is — 

The abundance of God's pardoning mercy. 

I remark — 

I. That the abundance of God's pardoning mercy is evinced 
by the removal of the obstacles to its exercise. 

It was not by annihilating sin — by scattering our iniquities 
in the regions of oblivion with no evidence of the divine 
abhorrence — no display of the divine justice against them — 
that the way is open for their remission. But God laid upon 
his Son the iniquities of us all. He gave himself an offering 
and a sacrifice to God. You may scrutinize with thorough 
inspection every sterner attribute of the Godhead ; you may 
search for and discover the principles and designs of that law, 
in comparison with the honor of which the universe of crea- 
tures is nothing ; you may explore the interests of God's moral 
kingdom, and survey them in their full magnitude as the de- 
signed expression of his unsullied glory ; you may inquire what 
saints and angels, and all the subjects of God's immense em- 
pire, will think, and how they will feel ; — but you shall not find 
an obstacle, you shall not be able to meet, or to invent, or to 
suspect an objection, to the fullest exercise of mercy toward 
the penitent sinner. Divine Omniscience saw them all, and 
divine mercy, by atoning blood, has taken them all away. 

II. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy may be argued 
from his benevolence. 

The goodness of God — i. e., his whole character, is intent 
on the promotion of the greatest good. "When this end de- 
mands the punishment of sin, this goodness dictates it, and 
in this consists what we call justice. "When this end is 
the pardon of the sinner, the same goodness dictates it, and 
in this consists mercy. In whatever form or way the ends 
of infinite benevolence can be promoted, the infinite be- 



244 PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

nevolence of God will act for their promotion ; the greater 
the perfection which pertains to any one of these ends, the 
more inherent value it has in itself, the greater its influ- 
ence on the general good, and the more entirely remote it is 
from impairing the general stock of happiness, the more in- 
tensely and effectually will infinite benevolence pursue it. 
Such is precisely the end to be answered in the full pardon of 
the penitent sinner. We have already seen how entirely re- 
mote the pardon of the penitent sinner is, from interfering 
with the attributes of God, the honor of his law, and the good 
of his kingdom. The highest gratification of God's benevo- 
lence here meets no obstruction. And look for a moment at 
the ill desert of the sinner — at the fires that are kindled for his 
eternal torment — at the glories which God has prepared to 
shed upon him on his admission to his presence, and say what 
greater blessing can God confer on a creature, than the pardon 
which delivers from sin and hell, and exalts to holiness and 
heaven ? Look over that inventory of blessings which he be- 
stowed on angels, and ask which so bespeaks the benevolence 
of God. Look over the regions where the benevolence of God 
lavishes its blessings, and say in what field are its riches so 
illustriously disclosed, as in that which is blessed by the dis- 
pensations of pardoning mercy ? Where is such a revenue of 
glory to the Eternal, as proceeds from that multitude which no 
man can number, redeemed out of " all nations, and kindreds, 
and people, and tongues ?" Thus, with every reason combin- 
ing its influence to draw forth the full expression of divine 
benevolence toward the penitent sinner, and with every ob- 
struction cleared away, nothing can restrain it. It must flow 
forth in a pure abundant stream of good upon its object. How- 
ever the dispensations of good may be modified and restricted 
by the perfections and designs of God toward other subjects of 
his kingdom, he will meet the returning penitent with all the 
in tenseness and fullness of the benevolence of a God. This can 
be the only limit of his abundant mercy, and if you would meas- 
ure the abundance of God's pardoning mercy to the penitent 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 245 

sinner, you must measure the infinite goodness of God, its ardor, 
its strength — the whole dimensions of his moral perfection, when 
concentrated upon a single object, with a purpose to bless. 

III. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy may be 
evinced from the riches of his forbearance and long-suffering. 

Consider, first, the objects of the divine forbearance ; a 
world, our whole species in rebellion. Consider its design; 
their repentance and salvation with eternal glory. For why 
else do we not sink beneath the righteous stroke of his wrath, 
or stand trembling in the horrors of despair. Consider its cir- 
cumstances ; how easy for Omnipotence to break the thread 
that holds us over the pit, and yet he spares us — he spares 
sinners, while he regards them with all the abhorrence that is 
due to sin — he 'spares them, while he can glorify himself in 
their instant and eternal destruction — he spares them, when in 
the midst of great and repeated provocations, when, from the 
very patience of God, they derive only hardihood in rebellion 
— he spares them that he may use every possible means for 
their conversion and salvation. Having opened to them the 
path of life, he has placed between himself and them, instead 
of the flaming sword of justice which turns every way, Jesus 
the Mediator, who opens the embrace of his mercy to the 
guilty. He conies to them in his word and in his providence ; 
by the chastisements and the bounties of his hand; by every 
moment's preservation; in the counsels and prayers and ex- 
ample of the pious; in visible displays of his eternal power 
and Godhead, which meet the eye whenever they look on the 
light of salvation, which illumines their path wherever they 
go ; by the heralds of the cross, who warn them night and day 
with tears ; in the opened gates of heaven, and the uncovered 
mouth of the pit ; in full displays of the beauty and glory and 
sufficiency of an incarnate Saviour. Thus God comes to the 
sinner, and thus he continues to come, till the shades of death 
and hell close the day of his probation. And for what ? Why 
these efforts to bring to repentance, if he has no mercy for the 
penitent ? Is God thus good by mistake ; does he do all this 



246 PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

to bring sinners to repentance when there is no provision — no 
mercy adequate to their pardon if they do repent ? Then 
what becomes of his omniscience? Is he thus good from 
designs of unkindness — good only that sinners may abuse his 
goodness and deserve a heavier doom % Then what becomes 
of his sincerity and his truth ? Is he thus good — thus intent 
on the repentance of the sinner, when his mercy is exhausted 
and the sinner abandoned as the victim of his justice ? Then 
why does not justice strike? If mercy despairs, why does 
justice delay the execution of its victim? Is God thus good 
to the sinner, and yet has he made him simply to damn 
him ? Why, then, does he not damn him ? In a word, is 
God good enough to do all this to bring sinners to repent- 
ance ; good enough thus to provide a Saviour, take away 
every obstacle to their return, and pardon if they will re- 
pent; good enough to wait upon them and continue every 
effort of mercy to secure their repentance, through years of 
accumulated guilt, provocations without end, and ingratitude 
and abuse, unknown in hell itself, and yet not good enough to 
pardon the sinner who will repent — do all this for him when 
an obstinate rebel, and not forgive him when a humble peni- 
tent? God forbid. Every moment of his spared life pro- 
claims a God ready to pardon. That abundance of mercy that 
does all this for the sinner, when contemning God and tread- 
ing underfoot the blood of his Son, will not despise a broken 
and a contrite heart. Show me such a sinner, degraded as he 
is by sin, enveloped in its ignominy, its shame, its guilt, its 
desert of hell — contrite, penitent, ingenuously relenting for all, 
and I show you the God of glory descending to that man — 
aye, rather with him into these depths, to revive, to console, to 
bless, and to save. God is the comforter of the wounded spirit. 
God wipes away the tears of the penitent. 

IY. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy is strikingly 
illustrated in the mediation of Christ. 

It is not simply the removal of obstacles to dispensing par- 
don, which we now consider, but rather the nature of these 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 247 

obstacles, and the means of their removal. The mere fact that 
mercy could be shown, might well excite our admiration and 
astonishment. But, when we think of the truth of God, it 
is as the great mountains — of his holiness, it is holiness 
that cannot look on sin, but with abhorrence — of his law, 
heaven and earth shall pass, but one jot or one tittle 
shall in nowise pass from the law — his justice, its de- 
mands must be enforced, though it plunge a rebel world 
into deepest perdition. Does mercy, then, come to our 
world in such circumstances? Is the simple fact proclaim- 
ed, that pardon can be granted, and the truth of God vin- 
dicated — the law of God be magnified, and made honorable — 
the justice of God be fully unfolded — the holiness of God be 
converted into the smile of eternal favor — all the interests and 
principles of God's moral kingdom upheld — yea, all the attri- 
butes of God be more impressively illustrated, than were the 
punishment of sin inflicted on the guilty. Is this the way in 
which God shows mercy — does mercy surmount difficulties 
and obstacles like these — does it force its way to our guilty 
world, through every barrier which the truth, the holiness and 
justice, law and kingdom of God could interpose ? Instead of dis- 
honoring God, of tarnishing a single attribute, does it not shed 
a richer glory on them all, and triumph still over their bright- 
ening glories, in our eternal redemption ? — Such is the length 
and breadth, and height, and depth, of the mercy of our God. 
Surely it will open its widest embrace to the sinner who will 
make it his refuge. Surely such mercy will exhaust the full 
treasures of its love upon the sinner who makes application 
for them. 

But how, or by whom, has this vast work been accom- 
plished ? There is not one of our fellow-mortals, from Adam 
to the present generation, that does not deserve the wrath of 
God for his own sins. "Who, through the whole extent of uni- 
versal being, can interpose — satisfy the law of God — and 
avert the fearful stroke of justice from a guilty world. The 
highest angels are bound to the extent of every power, to obey 



248 PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

the law we Lave broken, and can do no service for another. 
Who, then, shall turn aside, and bend, as it were, the unchange- 
able attributes of God to the sinner's wants ; who shall inter- 
cept the incurred penalties of God's broken law, and yet mag- 
nify it ; who shall uphold the throne of eternal justice, and 
yet transform it into a throne of mercy ? "When no man could 
redeem his brother, God himself found a ransom. When none 
among the angels around his throne could purchase peace for 
guilty men, he whom all the angels of God worship, said : 
"Lo I come to do thy will, O God." When no being whom 
God had formed could make ample expiation, then did the 
Lord of hosts say, " Awake, O sword, against the man that 
is my fellow." The plan devised and revealed, all heaven 
adored with wonder and joy. With prying scrutiny, angels 
labored to learn the magnitude and mystery of the great de- 
sign. And from the first sin of man the revelation was unfold- 
ing its certainty and its blessings, and though man can over- 
look and disregard it, it stands first among the counsels of the 
eternal Godhead, in every exhibition of the divine purposes. 
" In the fullness of time, God manifest in the flesh, descended 
to earth in vailed majesty." He spent a life marked by the 
lowest degradation and severest sufferings, till he finished it 
on the cross. There the Father put into his hand the cup of 
trembling, that he might drink it to its lowest dregs. There 
the arrows of wrath, the poison whereof drank up his spirit, 
fastened in him. There he laid the full burden of wrath due to 
us on the head of the innocent sufferer, and witnessed all his 
bitterness, and agonies, and tears, when he cried, " My God ! 
my God! why hast thou forsaken me!" There the beloved 
Son of God suffered from his Father's hand, till he exclaimed, 
"It is finished!" bowed his head, and gave up the Ghost. 
Bursting away from the chains of death, he arose from the 
dead, and ascended to his appointed throne. And now he is 
the first and the last, who was dead and is alive again, ever 
liveth to make intercession for us, and is able to save to the 
uttermost all who come unto God by him. Such is the mercy 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 249 

of our God — mercy provided at such a price — mercy which 
makes no compromise, no surrender of the attributes of God, 
but gives them a brighter radiance — mercy which unvails the 
whole Deity, in fullest grandeur and brightest splendor — 
mercy, beyond a doubt, which can pardon, which can save 
and bless forever the penitent, though the vilest rebel against 
the God of mercy. 

Did time permit, I might here still farther exhibit the riches 
of divine mercy in many bright examples. Our whole race 
have needed it, and thousands and millions have obtained it. 
I might point you to Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, 
and all the patriarchs and prophets, the penitent multitudes to 
whom John the Baptist preached, the apostles and disciples 
of our Lord, the dying thief, the murderers of the Lord of 
glory, all believers from that day to this, and that countless 
multitude whom John saw redeemed from everlasting destruc- 
tion, and assembled before the throne of God and the Lamb. 
I might point you to all who shall at last sit down amid the 
glories of that world, to all their glory and all their blessed- 
ness throughout the coming ages of eternity, as the gift of 
God's abundant mercy. And, if a doubt could yet enter the 
mind, I might point you to the chief of sinners, placed on the 
highest throne, and wearing the brightest crown among the 
saved, as an eternal monument of God's mercy. Yes, Saul 
of Tarsus is in heaven, and let not a doubt pervade a guilty 
bosom on earth, whether God will abundantly pardon a re- 
turning penitent. 

REMARKS. 

1. How important to man is divine revelation ! 

Not necessary, indeed, because man could not, but important, 
and even necessary in one sense, because without it he would 
not have discovered the mercy of God. The mere light of 
nature would be enough to bring to every mind the over- 
whelming conviction of his own sinfulness. But to the de- 
ll* 



250 PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

cision of that question on which our happiness here so much 
depends, and on which all our hopes for eternity depend, viz., 
whether God will forgive ana accept the sinner, no light but a 
light from heaven would in fact ever conduct us. Reason, 
indeed, could tell us, that God is good — our very experi- 
ence of his goodness might force us to believe in this perfec- 
tion of God. But the inquiry would still remain, how will 
that goodness, which confers on us its blessings during this 
period of probation, treat us when summoned into eternity ? 
What will the principles of moral government — what will the 
interests of God's moral kingdom — what will the attributes of 
a holy and just God demand in that awful hour? That sin be 
pardoned, or that sin be punished ? Plainly the latter. And 
if God's overflowing kindness to us here would furnish some 
faint intimation of his mercy — yet how inadequate to assure, 
to sustain a dying sinner! With no instance of actual for- 
giveness, with no declaration of God that he will forgive, with 
the burden of conscious guilt upon us, with no possible con- 
ception of any expedient by which God could show mercy, 
we should be conducted only to a fearful looking for of judg- 
ment and fiery indignation. In this midnight of gloom and 
terror, all our research and all our reasoning would leave us ; 
and back again to this midnight, from the light which beams 
on us from the gospel of God, would the infidel conduct us. 
Let him go, if he will, into all this darkness, and dwell amid 
all these terrors. Let him go, if he will, to the bar of a spot- 
less God on the footing of his own righteousness, and be tried 
by his own innocence or merit. But give me hope in a God 
of mercy. I am a sinner, and need his forgiveness. I am a 
guilty, lost immortal. I need deliverance from a deserved 
hell. Oh, hide not from me the abundant mercy of God in 
Christ Jesus ! 

2. It is not less dishonorable and offensive to God to despair 
of his mercy than to presume on his justice. 

Does that sinner who, in quiet unconcern, defies the justice 
of the Almighty, provoke God to come out in wrath against 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT, 251 

him, so does that sinner who despairs of his mercy. I know 
there is something in the latter case to awaken our compassion, 
and that almost forbids reproof. But has God revealed these 
treasures of his mercy to produce despair, after all that he 
has done to display that mercy — after he has concentrated, as 
it were, every moral perfection of his character in this, and 
unfolded it in its length and breadth? Can he approve of 
that unbelief which denies its sufficiency ? Will he not deem 
this as dishonorable to himself as the denial of any other 
perfection % There is, indeed, no consolation for him who will 
not renounce his sins, no remedy from despair in such a case. 
But let none refuse to renounce sin because God will not show 
mercy. Let him come and survey the dimensions of the mercy 
of God — let him stand on the brink of this ocean. Behold, 
God has taken away every obstacle to the exercise of mercy 
toward a guilty world. Behold, infinite benevolence, with all 
its intenseness, fixes on the penitent as its object, and as if it 
had none other to bless. Behold, with what patience he waits 
upon you, with what kindness he seeks to convert and save 
you. Behold, what barriers divine mercy hath surmounted, 
what a high and awful vindication it hath poured over all the 
severer attributes of the Godhead. Behold it turning aside 
from the guilty the defied penalties of the law, w r hile uphold- 
ing in all its firmness and glory the throne of the majesty in 
the heavens, and from that very throne dispensing its gifts to 
the rebellious. Behold him by whom all this was done. And 
come, thou vilest of men — ye idolators, extortioners, murder- 
ers, adulterers, persecutors, assassins, blasphemers, return unto 
the Lord, and no vengeance shall reach you. By repentance 
and faith commit your polluted, guilty soul to God your Re- 
deemer, and he will abundantly pardon. " For his thoughts 
are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith 
the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so 
are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than 
your thoughts." 

3. Let this subject remind Christians of their obligations. 



252 PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 

Oil, my brethren, to the mercy of God in Christ, how great 
are your obligations ! When you look back to the hole of the 
pit whence you were digged, and retrace your long and way- 
ward progress on the verge of eternal woe — when you turn 
your view on the number of your sins, and the aggravations 
of your guilt, and see that hell was your deserved portion — 
when, in heaven, you shall see all this, and there, too, behold 
the riches of that mercy that saved you — when the mystery 
of redemption, as found in the deep counsels of the eternal 
Godhead, shall be unfolded — when the satisfied justice and 
holiness of God shall send forth a brighter and nobler radiance 
than had the sentence of death been executed upon you — when 
the light of heaven's day shall open all the intricacies of this 
stupendous work, and the mercy that here beamed from that 
cross of agony shall descend upon you from the throne of the 
Lamb, and surround you with the glories of his presence — 
with what wonder, and gratitude, and joy will you swell the 
notes of the everlasting song. To-day you commemorate this 
mercy — these are the memorials of the body that was broken, 
and the blood that was shed, that God might show you mercy. 
Oh, admire and praise that here, which you shall admire and 
praise in heaven. Cultivate here, and through all your pil- 
grimage below, that spirit of humility, and gratitude, and de- 
votion, that shall wake, in eternal song, "Worthy is the Lamb 
that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and 
strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing !" 

See, too, your obligation to imitate this divine perfection. 
"Be ye therefore merciful, even as your Father which is in 
heaven is merciful ;" " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall 
obtain mercy ;" " He that showeth no mercy, shall have judg- 
ment without mercy." 

4. The very foundation of confidence and peace to the peni- 
tent, i$ the most awful cause of alarm to the impenitent. 

The one trusts in the mercy of God, and mercy to him is 
the concentrated perfections of Jehovah, pledged to pardon, to 
bless, and to save him. The other despises the mercy of God, 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 253 

and mercy despised, is the justice, holiness, and truth of God 
pledged to punish forever. 

. And now what shall I say to those who, by impenitence and 
unbelief, abuse and reject the mercy of God in Christ Jesus. 
There is not a sinner here to-day for whom pardoning mercy 
has not been provided ; to whom it has not been offered from 
the morning of life ; not one on whom the God of mercy has 
not looked with infinite pity, and to whom he has not addressed 
his calls and his offers. But, oh, how have they been received ? 
How has the plan of salvation through the mercy of God been 
treated by you ? What if God, my dear hearers, has removed 
every obstacle which your own guilt and which his at- 
tributes opposed to your pardon and salvation? What if his 
infinite benevolence has longed to fix its tenderest affections 
upon you? What if he has followed you with entreaties, and 
what if Jesus has died on the accursed tree, and deliverance 
from hell and an admittance to heaven have been urged upon 
your acceptance ? What has all this been to you — what are you 
the better in character or condition — what have you done — 
what do you now do, but despise and reject it all? But re- 
member that all this provision of mercy has given new sanc- 
tions to the law of God, and imparted a higher and more awful 
luster to his justice. The very perfections of God, which form 
a canopy of defense around the head of the believer, fix 
and necessitate the doom of the despiser of mercy, and these 
holy and everlasting attributes of God will pour down upon 
him a measure of wrath, great like the mercy abused. Oh, 
what will you think of the despised mercy of God, when the 
avenging moment comes ; when these accents of God's com- 
passion, that now fall on your senseless heart, shall be changed 
for the rolling thunders of hastening vengeance ? Oh, while 
the day of mercy shines, will you not hear ? Is there nothing 
in that mercy of God, which is above the heavens, to invite ; 
is there nothing in all your past contempt and ingratitude, to 
soften to contrition ; is there nothing in the wonders of redeem- 
ing love, nothing in Jesus, nothing in all his lone agonies for 



2S4 



PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT. 



•you, nothing in all his glory? Oh! 'tis enough to break a 
heart of stone. Shall it not touch yours ? Will you not come 
and lie at the feet of this injured Saviour? Will you not par- 
take of the blessings of God's eternal mercy ? Then do not 
abuse it — despise it — still let these calls pass unheeded. But 
I leave you with this question, and think of it when you go 
from this sanctuary! What degree of punishment must be 
your portion, if you are summoned to judgment as a despiser 
of God's abundant mercy ? 



XIX. 

THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

2 COEINTHIANS V. 11. 

"Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men." 

Of all kinds of preaching there is perhaps none so unpopu- 
lar — none, the propriety of which is so frequently denied — • 
none, the salutary influence of which is so imperfectly under- 
stood — as what is commonly termed preaching terror. 

The fact that the word of God abounds in the denunciations 
of his wrath against sin, decides, beyond a moment's debate, 
that some highly important end is the design of these awful 
threatenings. To ascertain this end is an inquiry of deep 
interest to beings who are to live under the government of 
God and feel its influence forever. 

To this subject the apostle directs our attention in the text. 
u Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men" 
— as if he had said, knowing the fearful denunciations of God 
against sin, we apprise men of their exposure to his wrath, 
that by this means we may persuade them to comply with the 
terms of salvation, and thus escape the threatened doom. 

The truth to which your attention is to be directed is, that — • 

The design and the practical tendency of the threatenings of 
God is to persuade men to holy obedience. 

I. That such is the design of the divine threatenings, will 
appear — 

1. If we consider them as a measure of God's moral govern- 
ment. 

These threatenings are surely designed for some purpose. 



256 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

They are not merely empty threats, intended to intimidate 
but never to be executed. The only possible light in which 
they can be regarded, as consistent with the character of the 
God who makes them, is, as a measure of moral government, 
designed to secure the salutary effects of that government 
upon its subjects. This is apparent on the very face of them. 
They are annexed to the laws of that government, and their 
execution is connected only with the violation of its laws. "We 
have, therefore, the same evidence that the threatenings of 
God are designed to prevent sin — i. e., to produce holy obedi- 
ence, as we have that the penalty of the civil law against 
murder is designed to prevent that crime. 

Besides, it is essential to the very nature of a moral govern- 
ment that its authority be supported by threatened punish- 
ment. Without it, there is nothing to show that its claims 
are to be enforced ; nothing to show that it may not be vio- 
lated with impunity ; and, of course, nothing to show that the 
laws of the government do not as truly allow of disobedience 
as require obedience. Let God, then, repeal the sanction of 
threatened punishment, and the laws of his government are a 
mere nonentity, and rebellion is legalized from one end of his 
dominions to the other. Just so certain, then, as God has 
established a moral government over men, and required their 
obedience, just so certain is it that his threatenings are de- 
signed to produce such obedience. 

2. This design is expressly declared. 

Probably the most awful manifestation of the majesty and 
terrors of God ever witnessed by man in this world, was made 
at the giving of the law on Mount Sinai. Here God descended 
in the midst of thunderings and lightnings. Here he lifted 
his mighty voice in the promulgation of his law, speaking out 
of the midst of the fire, and of the cloud, and of the thick dark- 
ness, and spreading awe and dismay through the thousands of 
Israel. " And the people said to Moses, Speak thou with us, 
and we will hear, but let not God speak with us, lest we die." 
" For who of all flesh hath heard the voice of the living God 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 257 

speaking out of the fire as we have, and lived?" Even Moses 
exceedingly feared and quaked. And why was all this ? The 
inspired historian tells us : " That his fear may be before your 
faces, that ye sin not." It was, by fear and trembling and dis- 
may, to make an abiding impression of the majesty and terror 
of that God who claimed their obedience. 

Similar impression was designed at the reading of the law 
at Mount Ebal and Mount Gerizim. There, by divine com- 
mand, the Levites read the law in specific enactments, say- 
ing, " Cursed be the man that maketh any graven or molten 
image ;" " Cursed be he that setteth light by his father or 
his mother ;" " Cursed be he that confirmeth not all the words 
of this law to do them ;" and all the people said Amen. Who 
can doubt that the design of God was to make a deep impres- 
sion upon the minds of men of the awful curse denounced 
against sin ? 

3. The same thing appears from the commission of the Lord 
Jesus to the preachers of his gospel. 

The sum of that commission is to declare, " He that believ- 
eth and is baptized, shall be saved, but he that believeth not 
shall be damned." It is, therefore, the obvious design of the 
Author of the gospel — it is essential to the execution of their 
high commission — that ministers of the gospel preach the 
damnation of that gospel to him that believeth not. If any 
say that the Lord Jesus designed or expected that men would 
obey his gospel without hearing its awful denunciations of 
wrath, let them say it ; if it be said that such denunciations, 
are mere empty threats to augment our wretchedness, let it 
be said ; but believe it, who can, in view of the character of' 
him who is the Author of our salvation ? 

4. From facts. 

Who was ever brought to obey the gospel without the influ- 
ence of the divine threatenings % I do not now allude to the 
degree of this influence, but to the fact that it has been felt 
sufficiently to produce practical results. I know there are 
those who persuade themselves that the divine goodness 



258 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

toward them has been the exclusive means of their conver- 
sion. , ]STo doubt of its efficacy. But in what does it consist? 
Chiefly in a sense of their ingratitude, and of their rich desert 
of damnation for that ingratitude. But are they quite sure 
that such would have been its influence had they never heard 
of the wrath of God against sin ? In this respect they may he 
mistaken. I ask, therefore, for one solitary decisive instance 
of conversion, in which no influence of God's threatenings has 
been felt. How is the fact in the recorded examples of the 
inspired volume ? Look at the trembling jailor falling down 
before Paul and Silas ; look at the trembling and astonished 
Saul of Tarsus ; look at the three thousand pricked in the 
heart, and hear from each the cry of deep emotion, What shall 
I dot And now say, whether these men despised the terror 
of the Lord, or felt it? The same, gospel has produced the 
same effects in every age. The terrors of guilt and of God 
do, in a greater or less degree, impress the soul of all who 
obey that gospel. And let the question be answered, whether 
the gospel of God, so uniformly producing such effects, is not 
designed to produce them? 

I might appeal to the preaching of prophets and apostles ; 
yea, with greater evidence to the example of the Son of God 
himself. Every reader of the Bible knows what frequent and 
awful denunciations of the wrath of the Almighty are uttered 
in this book, both by himself, and by all who have brought his 
inessage to this guilty world. If any truth be apparent, it is 
that this world is in rebellion against its Sovereign, and must 
be awed back to its allegiance by his terrors. He who doubts, 
therefore, the propriety or utility of God's denunciations of 
wrath, may as well advise him to take back this part of the 
Bible, or, with his own sacrilegious hand draw the effacing 
stroke over every line that utters such denunciations. 

I proceed to show — 

n. That the direct tendency of the divine threatenings is to 
persuade men to obey the gospel. 

That I may not be misapprehended, I would remark, that 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 259 

the divine tlireatenings have no tendency to persuade men to 
obedience, viewed as denunciations of mere suffering. Mere 
suffering presented to the mind, and operating exclusively on 
our natural dread of it, cannot excite holy affections, nor 
prompt to holy purposes. To tell a man that he is exposed to 
the fires of hell, and call upon him to fix his eye singly upon 
his doom, and, by anticipation, to realize its horrors, may dis- 
quiet him. He may tremble and quake at the aspect of 
menacing Deity, though he knows not and thinks not of the 
why and the wherefore of his anger. But all this, so far from 
tending to excite holy affection in the cold heart of man, tends 
only to harden in despair, or awaken more violent enmity 
against the God who threatens. 

But if mere terror has no tendency to soften the heart into 
love — if its direct tendency is to produce a recoil in the affec- 
tions — how is it, then, that the threatenings of God have a 
tendency to subdue the heart into cheerful submission to his 
will? 

I answer — 

1. By the solemn alternative which they reveal to man, as 
it tends to weaken his earthly attachments. 

Now, although the mere disclosure of this alternative, of 
obedience or death eternal, will never of itself convert the 
sinner, yet no sinner will ever be converted without it. God 
may unfold to men his claims and their, obligations, in the 
form, of mere statement; he may tell them ever so plainly 
what they ought to be, and what he requires them to be, and 
by the naked influence of authority urge their compliance, 
but to beings desperately bent on their own selfish gratifica- 
tion, all this will be utterly ineffectual. The effect will be 
just what that of human laws without penalty, would be 
upon the most hardened malefactors. To beings supremely 
selfish, an appeal must be made to some other principle to 
counteract and subdue the selfish principle. Such a principle 
there is in man — a principle of self-love, or regard to happi- 
ness. Every sentient being desires happiness, and to this prin- 



260 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

ciple, when man has chosen the wrong object as the source of 
happiness, the appeal must be made to lead him to renounce 
that choice. Sinners who have taken up a firm and deter- 
mined purpose of revolt from God, for the sake of worldly 
good, must see that if they will take that for their portion in 
this life, they must have eternal torment for their portion in 
the next. They must see that they have interests at stake, 
compared with which earthly good deserves not to be named 
or thought of. Their sensibilities to these interests must be 
roused sufficiently to invest earthly joys with an insignificance 
or a gloom, sufficiently to arrest their infatuated career of re- 
-bellion — to force upon them the conviction of their folly, by 
making them think of its consequences, or all is desperation. 
To produce this state of mind, the denunciations of divine 
wrath directly tend. If to array the terrors of the Almighty 
against the sinner — if to lay before him the horrors of the im- 
pending death, and the woes of a ruined eternity, will not 
lead him to ponder the path of his feet — if this will not weaken 
the ardor of earthly attachments, and check the ardor of 
earthly pursuits, nothing can. These, at any rate, are enough 
to do it. Thus, although the mere fear of suffering is not 
enough to excite holy affections, it is enough to bring him to 
that state where purer and higher motives may reach him. 
It is enough to sink, in his estimation, the objects of sense to 
their comparative worthlessness ; and even to excite a disgust 
and a loathing for objects fraught with such fearful ruin in 
the end. It is enough to awaken his sensibilities to the amaz- 
ing interests of futurity, and force him to sober meditation 
and thoughtfulness — a point to which he would never come, 
without the constraining influence of a threatened damnation. 

2. The terrors of the Lord also enforce the necessity of com- 
pliance with the terms of salvation. 

There is, perhaps, no part of the influence which God uses 
in the conversion of sinners, which is more indispensable than 
this. Depraved man — in love with the world, and in love with 
sin — will continue his chosen way, till some dire necessity of 



THE TERROR OP THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 261 

escape be shown to him. And even then he will employ his 
ingenuity, and rely on the authority, not of reason, but of his 
own wishes to determine the way of escape, in contempt of 
that which God has pointed out. It is this hope of impunity, 
under the sound of God's denunciations of wrath, which holds 
this guilty world in its awful death-like slumbers. It is only 
when the sinner sees that the threatenings of God cannot be 
defied with safety, and that every solemn utterance of his 
wrath will be carried into execution, and that there is none 
other way of escape than that to which his own heart is des- 
perately opposed, that he begins to stand in awe of his almighty 
Sovereign. And it is in the threatenings of the infinite God, 
that he sees his helpless necessity of submitting to the terms 
of God. He sees a God of omnipotence, able to execute his 
wrath to the uttermost — a God, whose truth binds him to the 
full execution of its every announcement — a God, whose holi- 
ness kindles into a fire of indignation at the very approach of 
iniquity — a God, whose justice is pledged to uphold his law, 
his government, his throne, though worlds sink beneath the 
strokes of his wrath. It is such a God who threatens him ; and 
by his threatenings he is driven to abandon all hope in sin. 
Such a God will not alter the terms of mercy, nor remit the 
curse without compliance. Thus the sinner is forced to re- 
nounce his vain conceits and expectations of safety, to aban- 
don his refuges of lies, and to feel that there is no peace to the 
wicked while God reigns — thus he is cut off from all self- 
dependence, made to relinquish every proud attempt at help- 
ing himself, and of purchasing the favor of God by his own 
doings ; for, in the denunciations of God, he sees his helpless 
necessity of being lost, or of submitting to his terms of mercy. 
Now, if ever, he hastens to the appointed refuge. God's im- 
mutable decree, " Eepent or perish, believe or be damned," 
ends all his dreams, and scatters all his hopes. 

3. It is only by the divine threatenings that the evil of sin, 
as God esteems it, can be shown to the sinner. 

The evil of sin must be learned from God's estimate of it. 



262 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

Man, the sinner himself, is not a safe judge on this question. 
The grand question is, what does the Lawgiver think of it? 
"What is his estimate — what the measure of his abhorrence, 
who holds our being and our happiness at his disposal ? Now, 
what should we think of God's estimate of sin, had he annexed 
no penalty to transgression, or withheld all penalty after trans- 
gression? The sinner by transgression openly sets at naught 
the claims of God ; he proclaims the demands of God for his 
obedience to be unworthy of regard ; and God, by withdraw- 
ing the threatened penalty, sanctions that proclamation, and 
acquiesces in the practical declaration of the sinner, that his 
law is unworthy of obedience, and that sin neither provokes 
his disapprobation nor deserves his wrath. Punishment is a 
manifestation of the Lawgiver, the measure of his abhorrence 
of sin, the proof of the claim of his law, and seal of its inviola- 
bility. Without -it that claim would be as though it were not, 
and rebellion be legalized from one end of his dominion to the 
other. It is the only medium by which God can bring home 
to the sinner a conviction of his abhorrence of sin. The law 
might remain in the form of requisition or advice, but nothing 
appears to show that it is not, in God's estimation, just as well 
to transgress as to obey it. Of what, then, shall the sinner 
repent? Nothing appears from the government which God 
administers to show that transgression calls for repentance 
any more than obedience itself. Without the divine threaten- 
ings, therefore, the sinner can never be made to see the evil 
of sin, and of course can never repent of it as an evil. In the 
very nature of things, repentance under the government of 
God is out of the question. On the other hand, the threaten- 
ings of God unavoidably bring to the mind of the sinner who 
looks at them the inquiry,/*^ what are these fearful terrors 
pointed against me ? Is there not a cause — has no evil been 
done — by which a righteous God is provoked? Is there not 
something in sin which justifies a perfect God in enforcing its 
prohibition under such dread sanctions of his wrath ? And 
the answer is at hand. There is that in sin which makes the 



THE TERROR OP THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 263 

threatening just. That infinite Being whose glories enrapture 
all heaven, I have despised ; that authority of God by which 
alone his supremacy and his right to govern can be sustained, 
I have trampled underfoot; that law of God which is holy, 
just and good, and the appointed means of blessing his holy 
kingdom, I have violated ; all my obligations, which result 
from creating and preserving and redeeming goodness, I have 
slighted ; and all the designs of a perfect God to glorify him- 
self and impart blessedness to his holy universe, I have opposed 
and labored to defeat ; and all the evil, the misery, which his 
sentient creation, my little self excepted, can endure, I have 
consented should exist. In heart, I have been willing to mar 
every design of a perfect God — to destroy his infinite blessed- 
ness, and to fill the universe with wailing and woe ; and for 
this I deserve his wrath, and for this he threatens it. It is 
with me, as such a rebel — a rebel against God with such a 
heart — with such a principle of action, that God is displeased, 
and as much displeased as his. awful threatenings say he is. 
Thus it is by means of these threatenings that the sinner is 
made to see the evil of sin — the measure of God's disapproba- 
tion of it, as manifested in these threatenings. If he would 
know that sin is an evil, let him ask how God regards it ; if 
he would know how God regards it, let him ask the fires 
which his wrath kindles as its punishment. Conceal the 
threatenings of God, and thus prevent the sinner from seeing 
how God regards it, and he would never see the evil — the ill 
desert of sin, nor find any thing to repent of in sin. But open 
clearly to his inspection the import and nature of these threat- 
enings, and let them tell how God feels toward sin, and noth- 
ing so powerfully tends to show him his ill desert — to show 
him to himself as God sees him, and to awaken the relentings, 
and the grief and the holy purposes of godly repentance. 

4. The divine threatenings reveal the character of God in 
its glory and excellence. 

This they do as they reveal his disapprobation — the full 
measure of his abhorrence of sin. This is God's holiness, and 



264 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

his holiness is pre-eminently his glory. As God loves the 
happiness of his creatures, he loves their virtue or holiness — 
their moral excellence and perfection as the means, and only 
means of their perfect happiness. As he loves their holiness, 
their moral perfection, lie abhors sin. God's abhorrence of 
sin, then, is the exact measure of his benevolence, his good- 
ness, his love of his creatures. If, then, the sinner is ever to 
know God as he is — his goodness, his benevolence, and love to 
his creatures — he must see him as he abhors sin, the destruc- 
tion of all good in the universe. If we would see God in his 
abhorrence of sin, we must see him through the medium of 
his threatenings. Here we may see with what intensity of 
will and affection God seeks the virtue, the holiness, as the 
means of the happiness of his moral creation. Nor is it con- 
ceivable, that that greatest, most enrapturing of all truths in 
the universe of truth, that God is love, that God is a being 
who, more than all things else, loves the holiness, and thus 
the happiness of his creatures, should be so impressively pre- 
sented to human apprehension — that the glory of God should 
be so poured upon human thought, and human sensibility, in 
such full-orbed splendor, as through the divine threatenings. 
Here God's love for the happiness of his creatures may be 
seen in his intense abhorrence of sin, which destroys that hap- 
piness. There is no other mode conceivable, in which God 
can be seen as he is, and as all that he is — loved as he is, and 
all that he is, as through this manifestation. 

Some suppose that for man to be moved by the divine 
threatenings, is to be moved by a mercenary influence ; and 
to act under it, is, of necessity, to act in a selfish manner. Oh, 
how little such men know of God, and God's government ! Let 
the sinner look at that highest glory of God, in view of which 
heaven's song makes heaven's pillars tremble, "Holy, holy, 
holy, Lord God Almighty ;" let him thus look and love, and 
can his love be mercenary, or mean, or selfish ? In kind, you 
see it will, it must be the same which the effulgence of the 
Deity awakens in the seraph's heart. 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 265 

5. The divine threatenings unfold the claims of God for the 
sinner's obedience in all their pressure of obligation. 

By these it is that the sinner is made to see, if he see at all, 
who and what that God is with whom he has to do. God 
comes out to the sinner with his claims, he unfolds his obliga- 
tions to obedience, as these result from his own infinite perfec- 
tions, from his high and rightful supremacy over the creatures 
of his power, from the purity and excellence of his law, and 
from the great designs of his moral government ; and now, for 
the single purpose of securing the ascendency of these claims 
aDd these obligations in the heart of man, he makes known 
the tremendous alternative of submission or death. Here are 
none of the decrees and threats of self-willed despotism, fixed 
upon its own selfish ends, at the sacrifice of all good to those 
whom it has power to torment. The denunciations of God, 
properly understood, bring no such thought to the mind of 
the sinner. They are simply the enforcement of the obliga- 
tions of eternal righteousness. Their language to the sinner, 
under a full discovery of the claims of the Most High, is, a Sub- 
mit to these righteous claims of a perfect God, or die." It is 
the direct tendency of these threatenings, not merely to make 
the sinner tremble, but at the very moment of excited fears 
of the curse, to array before him his duty, and to bring before 
him all its obligations, and all its motives. They turn his eye 
downward upon the pit and its fires, and at the same instant 
raise and fix it upon God in all the authority of his supremacy, 
and in all the immutability and equity of his claims. He is 
made to see how perfect, how holy, how just, how unchange- 
able are the claims which a righteous God enforces by such 
awful sanctions. God, in all his majesty and perfection, is 
brought into nearer contact with the sinner than it is possible 
to conceive he should be by any other means. By the terrors 
of the Lord, all the sensibilities of his nature are appealed to, 
and he is made to stop in his career of rebellion, because his 
steps take hold on hell ; and, by precisely the same means, he 

is in this attitude made to look upward, and to look intently, 
Vol. L— 12 



266 THE TEEROE OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

to the great reality of a living and a reigning God; and while 
he looks, all the majesty, and all the loveliness, and all the 
glory of God are brought to bear upon his conscience and his 
heart. Thus he sees what God is — how God feels toward him, 
and how he ought to feel toward God. Thus he is made to 
feel — if by any means he can be made to feel — the full pres- 
sure of his obligations to obedience ; thus the whole moral 
influence of God's moral administration is concentrated and 
poured upon his heart ; and thus by the terror of the Lord, he 
is persuaded to obey him. 

6. The efficacy of the divine threatenings will still farther 
appear, if we reflect that they are not absolute, but con- 
ditional. 

Such is the constitution of the human mind, such the con- 
dition of man as a sinner, that absolute threatenings would 
reach him with no salutary influence whatever. To know the 
terrors of the Lord, and that there is no way of escape, would 
only awaken his dread and his enmity toward the Being whom 
he is commanded to love. He might sometimes look toward 
God, as an irreconcilable Lawgiver and Judge, but seeing 'him 
only in the severities of frowning majesty, he would find no 
place in his heart, either for love or confidence. Instead of 
entering with hope on the path of obedience, he would sit still 
in the sallenness of despair. 

Widely different from this has the mercy of God made our 
condition. " God is in Christ, reconciling the world unto him- 
self." Does he denounce against us the fearful penalty of his 
violated law ? That " law is our schoolmaster to bring us to 
Christ." Does he denounce the deeper curses of a despised 
,gospel? It is "to save by fear." True it is, and true it ought 
to be, that if the sinner resolve to go on in his iniquity there 
is enough to make his heart " meditate terror." On that path 
God sheds his heaviest frowns — that way of the sinner God 
infests with all the horrors of anticipated vengeance. And it 
is right and best that it should be so ; for if that will not check 
the rebel's wayward step, what will ? But is there no hope ? 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 267 

"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man 
his thoughts : and let him return unto the Lord, and he will 
have mercy upon him ; and to our God for he will abundantly 
pardon." Let the sinner only think of turning back from the 
ruin that awaits him ; let him only stop and listen to the 
entreaties that call him to life ; and that moment God puts on 
the winning countenance of invitation, and throws wide the 
embrace of his friendship. And now, let it be told what must 
be the influence of the threatened wrath upon one in circum- 
stances like these. With heaven before him, with an invit- 
ing God and Saviour welcoming him to the arms of his mercy, 
will not an opening hell behind him quicken the footsteps of 
his return. Let it be supposed that his sensibilities are awake, 
before the appalling severities of the coming wrath ; and now, 
will not the sight of his great Deliverer awaken his gratitude 
and inspire him with confidence? Can he see his inevitable 
doom on the one hand, and God his Saviour waiting to be 
gracious on the other, and not trust him ? Surely the terrors 
of the Lord, if any thing can do it, must make him welcome 
the mercy of the Lord, and bring him, as a humble, grateful, 
trusting penitent, to the feet of the Saviour. 

On the other hand, you may set before the sinner all the 
compassion of God, and the tenderness of redeeming love ; 
you may call him with all the expostulation and entreaty of 
divine invitation ; you may point him to the wounds and the 
agonies and death of Jesus, but if you do not show him that 
he is lost, he will never embrace a Saviour. Why should he? 
What is all this to one who has no concern with it? If the 
sinner be not lost, the compassion which God has revealed in 
the gospel is not for him; the entreaties of the gospel are not 
addressed to him ; the tenderness and love and mercy of the 
Saviour are not toward him. There is not a particle of influ- 
ence in all this that can reach or touch him. You may call 
him to accept of the great salvation, but his exposure to an 
opening hell must move him or he will never stir. The ex- 
pected wrath of God must endear to him the compassion and 



268 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

the tenderness and the mercy of God, or all the melting, 
mighty efficacy of gospel grace will fall upon his heart as upon 
the cold rock of the desert. 

REMARKS. 

1. Our subject furnishes an important topic of self-exami- 
nation — viz., what has been the influence of the divine threat- 
enings upon us ? 

The question is not merely whether we have awakened to 
see our exposure to wrath, and even trembled at the expecta- 
tion and the fear of its actual execution. All this may have 
been felt — our disquietude and fears may have continued long, 
and may have spoiled, during its continuance, all our earthly 
joys — and we be none the better for it. The first point to be 
settled is, have we felt the power of the divine threatenings at 
all ? And the next is, have they produced their true practi- 
cal effects ? Have they so affected us as to spoil the world of 
its charms, as our chief object of pursuit, and made the convic- 
tion practical, that a man gains nothing by gaining the whole 
world and losing his own soul ? Have they brought home to 
our practical feelings our urgent, dying necessity, of submis- 
sion to the terms of mercy — so shown us the evil of sin — so 
pressed upon us our obligations, and so arrayed before us the 
motives and persuasives — the whole moral influence of the 
gospel — as to bring us actually to obey the gospel ? Have we, 
through God's threatenings, seen God — God as he is? Has 
their actual result been repentance for sin, faith in the Saviour, 
love to God, and a holy purpose of consecration to his serv- 
ice ? If not, our religion is wholly selfish and hollow at heart. 
If not — no matter what may have been our fears and distresses 
— no matter what relief from these fears and distresses we may 
have experienced — the divine threatenings have not had their 
proper influence on us, and we are yet " in the gall of bitter- 
ness and in the bond of iniquity." 

2. Saints, as well as sinners, ought to derive practical benefit 
from the divine threatenings. 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 269 

Some there are who, supposing that they have fled to the 
appointed refuge, imagine that they have no concern with the 
terrors of God, though they are very willing, and often pecu- 
liarly pleased with, this sort of preaching for others' sake. But 
why has this sort of preaching no application -to them ? Be- 
cause they are Christians, and therefore safe from the wrath 
of God ? That is much to be doubted, if they find the threat- 
enings of God have no influence upon them. Be it so, how- 
ever, that just so far as they have evidence that they are Chris- 
tians, so far the probability is that they will not feel the actual 
execution of God's threatenings. But is there nothing in these 
threatenings of salutary influence on the Christian ? Has he 
no need to see and to feel more of the vanity of the world, as 
it is shown in contrast with everlasting burnings ? Has he no 
need to feel more of the necessity of persevering in holy obe- 
dience? Has he no need to see more and more of the evil of 
sin — more and more of his obligations to God ; and more and 
more of all that moral influence which results wholly from his 
guilt and ruin as a sinner ? He cannot doubt it. Let him, then, 
see it, and feel it, more and more, whenever the terrors of God 
are arrayed before him. Let him remember that "he that 
endureth to the end shall be saved" — that if any man draws 
back, he draws back unto perdition — that unless he keep 
under his body, and bring it into subjection, he too shall be 
a cast-away. Let him often think of that God " who is able 
to destroy both soul and body in hell." I tell you, Christian, 
even your heart needs this influence, and it is a sad mark 
against you, if you are not willing to feel it. 

3. We see why God threatens sin with eternal punishment. 

His threatenings are designed to show — and to answer 
their end, they must show — what God is. To show what 
God is, they must show the measure of his disapprobation 
of sin — his holiness. Any other threatenings would tell lies 
concerning God. They would exhibit him as he is not. 
God hates sin as much as his awful threatenings say he 
does. And they who deny it, deny the God of heaven. 



270 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

They deny his holiness — his real abhorrence of sin. They ex- 
hibit, of course, a false God to the human mind — a God who 
does not abhor sin, as it ought to be abhorred, and as a perfect 
God must abhor it. Sin is the supreme evil ; and a God who 
does not so regard it, is not a God who regards things as they 
are, and might as well not regard it as an evil at all. He is 
worthy of no confidence, nor respect. He is a God without 
principle, a God without character. Such a God on the throne 
of the universe, and every angel would drop his harp — every 
devil shout in ecstasy. The bands of God's moral dominion 
would be broken, the pillars of eternal justice would fall, and 
heaven fall with them ; the fires of hell burst forth unchecked, 
and rebellion stand triumphant on the ruins. Such is the 
Universalist's God. Let him trust him, if he dare ! Such is 
not the God of heaven. Such is not my God. If I know my 
own heart, I love a God so holy, as to abhor sin as much as 
his awful threat enings say he does. That there is such a God, 
is the joy of the holy universe. In his hands, and only in his, 
all is safe. 

4. The object of preaching terror, is not to agitate with 
alarm. 

Let me not be misunderstood. I do not say, that the object 
is not to produce alarm in some degree — even that salutary 
dread of wrath, which shall be necessary to induce the sinner 
at once to flee from it. But I mean, that it is not as some 
imagine, so to insulate the mind's view of the wrath of God, 
as to exclude all thoughts of his mercy — so to turn the eye 
down the precipice of damnation, that nothing but its terrors 
can be seen. This, instead of being useful or salutary, is in- 
jurious, and even fatal. The threat enings of God are neither 
designed nor fitted to produce this effect. They are the threat- 
enings of a God who is just, but who is merciful also ; and they 
are promulged, pre-eminently, to accomplish the design of his 
mercy. They are not absolute, but conditional — not fitted to 
take away hope, but to lead the sinner to lay hold on the hope 
set before him. Suppose one in a prison, whose walls and 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 271 

fastnesses destroyed all hope of escape — suppose him sur- 
rounded with beasts of prey, whose eyes .flashed rage on him 
as their helpless victim. It is eas,y to conceive, that he would 
be agitated, convulsed, overwhelmed with terror. But sup- 
pose now these objects of fear are asleep — you see it would be 
some mitigation of his emotions. Suppose now a door to his 
prison — a door on the latch — his relief is still greater. And 
now, suppose the door stands open ! How much would he be 
frightened ? Just enough to induce him not to stay another 
moment in this place of danger, but instantly to flee from it. 

So, fellow-sinner, the wrath to which you are so fearfully 
exposed, sleeps. Another moment's delay, and it may break 
in an eternal storm on your guilty head. . ]STqw, we proclaim 
"the opening of the prison-doors to them that are bound." 
Fly, then, to Jesus. Hasten to the Son of God as thy Saviour. 
Oh, how kind, how benignant is God, even in the denuncia- 
tions of his wrath ! 

5. We see the self-deception, and the hardihood in sin of 
those who scoff at the divine threatenings. 

Their self-deception is obvious. They flatter themselves 
that it does no good to preach terror, they are not to be fright- 
ened into religion — frightened to heaven — and wonder that 
ministers do not preach more upon the mercy of God. Does 
no good to preach terror ? Why, then, does the living God 
preach it? "Why did the Saviour of the world, who loved sin- 
ners and died for them — why did he preach it? Never did 
the denunciation of eternal wrath break in such thunders from 
any lips as from his. But why not tell us of the mercy of 
God? We do — and we ought; the theme should fire our 
hearts, and make our language glow. And why is not this 
enough ? Why so often attempt to frighten us into religion ? 
I answer : we make no such attempt ; we never declare the 
wrath of God merely to make you tremble ; we never point 
you to an absolute, unconditional damnation. We make 
known the terrors of the Lord, that you may fear, and hear, 
and be saved — that you may thus see the folly of plunging 



272 THE TERROR OP THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 

blindfold into the abyss of hell, for the sake of this vain 
world. We make known the terror of the Lord, that yon may 
see your dying necessity of feeling it, or submitting to the 
terms of mercy — that you may know how gnilty yon are in 
the sight of God, and learn the justice, and holiness, and glory 
of God, and your obligations to submit to his claims — in a 
word, that you may be persuaded to embrace the offered sal- 
vation — and because we know you never will be thus per- 
suaded, unless you know that hell must be your portion, if you 
are not. Deceive then yourself, fellow-sinner, no longer. If 
you contemn this preaching, you are your own worst enemy — 
you are despising the appointed means of salvation, without 
which you will perish. Despise it if you will, but if you do 
not fear hell, you will go there. And why should you not fear 
it? Is it not a reality? Does not the God of mercy teach 
you to fear it? Are you not exposed to it? Why, then, do 
you affect to despise and resist the preaching of terror? Surely 
not because that is not the preaching which you need ? No. 
Because it disquiets and troubles you in your purposes of sin. 
Here is the secret of all your objections — you are not willing 
to be disturbed. And tell us, is this the reason why we should 
let you alone, and sew pillows under arm-holes, and rock 
you to sleep on the brink of everlasting burnings? Would 
you thank us for our kindness, when those lires kindle upon 
you? 

After all, perhaps, you can contemn the preacher of these 
things, and heap obloquy and reproach upon him. It is often 
done. Yes ; let the preacher of the gospel denounce the wrath 
of God, in the very words of God — let him tell of the lire 
which shall never be quenched, of the lake that burnetii with 
lire and brimstone ; and many there are who can quote these 
words of the Holy Ghost with a sneering, scoffing contempt 
of the man that utters them! What hardihood in guilt is 
this ! God utters their damnation, and they throw back his 
words into the face of God. Tell me if such men will not 
feel that wrath, till they shall learn not to despise it? Tell us, 



THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 273 

for whom is hell prepared, with its chains, and darkness, and 
fires, if not for men who set the wrath of God at defiance, and 
who thus rush upon the thick bosses of his buckler? 

And now, my dear hearers, let me request you to bring to 
the test of experiment the doctrine of this discourse. The 
doctrine is, that the design and practical tendency of the 
threatenings of God is to persuade men to holy obedience. 
Now, if they ever have this influence, they must be thought 
of until their efficacy is felt. 

Now, you may be too proud, or too slothful, to make this 
attempt. You may be too proud to be saved in the way in 
which the jailor was saved. But unless you are willing to 
come to this point — unless you are willing that the moral in- 
fluence of the gospel, as it comes through the divine threaten- 
ings, should reach your conscience — unless you consent to feel 
that you are guilty, and deserve the doom which God has 
threatened — that you are lost — 'fearfully exposed to the execu- 
tion of those threatenings, you never will be converted, and 
never will be saved. 

Will you, then, brave all these terrors of God ? Will you go 
on dreaming that the world only is good, when, if yon have 
this good in this life, you must take hell with it in the next ? 
Will you yet trifle with that resistless decree of the Almighty, 
which has fixed the alternative of repentance or perdition? 
Will you refuse to think of that evil of sin, which a just God 
measures by denouncing eternal woe on the sinner? Will you 
go on heedless of that God, who frowns and thunders in his 
wrath, to awe yon back from eternal fire to the embrace of his 
mercy ! 

12* 18 



XX. 

THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 

Luke xiii. 5. 

"Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." 

Our Lord often based his instructions upon undeniable 
and admitted facts. On the present occasion some who had 
heard him declare the certain and eternal destruction of the 
wicked, told him of those Galileans whom Pilate had mur- 
dered when they came to the temple to worship, and whose 
blood he had mingled with their sacrifices. From this signal 
instance of destruction they inferred that there was some pecu- 
liarity of character or circumstances in the case of these un- 
happy sufferers which did not pertain to others, or at least to 
themselves. To correct this false conception and to show 
them that they stood exposed to a similar doom, he answered, 
" Suppose ye that these Galileans were sinners above all the 
Galileans because they suffered such things % I tell you, Nay ; 
but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." To bring 
this view of the subject still closer to the conscience of those 
whom he addresses, he alludes to another instance which, so 
to speak, occurred among their own acquaintance. " Or those 
eighteen on whom the tower at Siloam fell, think ye that they 
were sinners above all men that dwell in Jerusalem ? I tell 
you, Kay ; but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." 

I propose to consider — 

First, The nature ; and, 

Second, The necessity of repentance. 

I. The nature of repentance. 



THE NECESSITY OP EEPENTANCE. 275 

I remark — 

1. That repentance implies godly sorrow for sin. 

" Godly sorrow," saith the apostle, " worketh repentance to 
salvation not to be repented of." Repentance, then, is the 
effect of godly sorrow, and implies it. In every requirement 
of repentance this sorrow is therefore required. Godly sorrow 
is sorrow for sin, as committed against God. It is the thought 
that he has sinned against God — a God so holy, so good, so 
gracious — that affects and softens the heart of the true penitent 
with ingenuous sorrow. To know what God is, as a Being to 
whom pertains all that is vast in power, comprehensive in 
wisdom, enchanting in goodness and mercy ; thus to see his 
glories, and while they beam on the fixed and wondering eye 
of contemplation, to be obliged to say, "Against thee, thee 
only have I sinned" — oh, it is this which touches the secret 
place of tears and melts the heart in contrition. 

2. Repentance involves the hatred of sin. 

This hatred of sin is of the same disinterested and ingenuous 
nature as godly sorrow. It respects the intrinsic turpitude of 
sin. It is not the mere punishment of sin as natural evil, 
which it respects, but sin itself — sin in its inherent moral tur- 
pitude and odiousness — sin, the most odious object conceiva- 
ble — the most fit to be hated and abhorred — sin which, as op- 
position to God, his soul hateth, on which he cannot look 
without shuddering, and the measure of whose abhorrence is 
the doom with which he threatens it. Sin, what is it? It is 
the governing, actuating principle of a moral being — a being, 
made to live and act, not to defeat but to promote God's 
great and perfect designs. It reigns in the heart of such a 
being, giving direction and form, tendencies and results to all 
his doings. It is the principle of selfishness — a principle 
which is concerned only for self — which does not fix on uni- 
versal good, and which, therefore, sacrifices to its own private, 
limited end or object, all other good — a created universe — 
God — his designs, and his blessedness ; and more, unrestrained 
it goes forth to fill a universe with anguish, and is, therefore, 



276 THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 

nothing else, nothing better, than the fell malignity of an in- 
fernal. It is the hatred and the abhorrence of such a heart, 
as being his own heart, which the penitent sinner feels. He 
sees, and says, and feels, such is my heart; such is and has 
been the jwinciple from which I have acted; such I am in 
truth — God's enemy ; such I am in his sight. In the light of 
his glory I see it, I know it, I feel it ; I am vile, I abhor my- 
self. 

It is obvious that such hatred of sin will be directed against 
every form and manifestation of sin, against sin in all circum- 
stances, against sin in himself, and against sin in all men. Sin 
will possess its own inherent odious nature, whatever form it 
may assume — whether it be secret or open ; whether in thought, 
or word, or action ; whether it be mean or honorable in the 
eyes of the world ; whether productive of present good or pres- 
ent evil, it will still be sin, and will be the object of abhor- 
rence to the real penitent. 

3. Repentance includes reformation. 

This, as it respects both the affections of the heart and the 
conduct of the life, is the crowning excellence of this evan- 
gelical virtue. The very word used in the New Testament 
signifies that amendment and reformation from what is wrong 
in us, produced by just views of the nature of what is thus 
wrong. Indeed, true godly sorrow for sin, and a genuine 
hatred of sin, while they are in themselves a part of real 
amendment or reformation, must in their very nature tend to 
produce a universal reformation in heart and life. He who 
truly mourns for his sins, and who truly hates all sin, in pro- 
portion to the strength of these principles, will infallibly for- 
sake all sin. At the same time, as we unavoidably love that 
which is the direct opposite of what we hate, the true penitent 
must love holiness, and therefore must be led to aim at uni- 
versal obedience to the will of God, in heart and life. Let me 
not be understood to assert that the imperfect repentance of 
saints on earth, secures perfect freedom from sin. This, how- 
ever, may be said, that sin has not dominion over the true 



THE NECESSITY OP REPENTANCE. 277 

penitent in this life ; he will never rest satisfied with himself 
while sin mars the affections of his heart or stains the conduct 
of his life; the commanding object of his purposes and his 
efforts will be to avoid sin and to practice holiness. More 
and more continually will this purpose be cherished and 
strengthened ; more and more will these efforts be made. He 
will go from strength to strength, he will improve in holiness 
as he approaches his eternal home, till perfection absolute 
shall render him a meet partaker with the saints in light in 
their communion and their blessedness. 

Perfect repentance, then, on the part of a sinner, is sub- 
stantially the sum of all religion. The penitent is a sinner, 
who, having just views of sin and just feelings toward it, re- 
nounces it and becomes holy. Indeed, in its nature, repent- 
ance in man differs not from the religion of angels in heaven, 
only as it is modified in reference to the character of man as a 
sinner; and the true penitent has substantially in kind the 
same views of sin, the same feelings toward it, and the same 
purposes respecting it, which the holiest seraph, had he once 
sinned, would possess. It is easy to see, in such a case, how 
a being so holy would feel. Had Gabriel sinned, he would 
grieve for sin, for its own intrinsic turpitude and guilt as hos- 
tile to the God whom he sees, adores, and loves ; he would 
hate it as he now does, and for the same reason ; he would 
employ the whole energies of his spirit to avoid it, and to be 
like God in purity and holiness. And unless we have some 
of these feelings and these purposes we have no warrant for a 
thought that we have repented. 

I proceed to consider — 

II. The necessity of repentance. "Except ye repent, ye 
shall all likewise perish." 

I remark — 

1 That this is the decision of God respecting all men. 

This decision is presented in many forms. In the com- 
mands of God. When John the Baptist came — when the Son 
of God entered on his public ministry, they came — saying, 



278 THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 

"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." When the 
apostles went forth, they made known their commission, by 
declaring that God "now commandeth all men everywhere 
to repent." And obedience to God's commandments is re- 
quired on pain of eternal death. Repentance and faith were, 
indeed, the burden of apostolic preaching, the sum and sub- 
stance of that gospel which was to be preached to every crea- 
ture, as " testifying to the Jews and also to the Greeks repent- 
ance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." 
To disobey the call, therefore, is to reject the gospel, and to 
incur its curse. But we are not left to mere deduction and 
inference — conclusive as this method of argument is. We 
have God's express decision — we have it on record, as uttered 
by the Saviour of the world — we have it in terms as plain as 
language can furnish. The point, therefore, is not to be dis- 
posed of in some easy, indolent, superficial way, by supposing 
that God is too merciful to condemn, or our morality too 
exemplary to expose us to his wrath. If what God says of 
himself, is of higher authority than our own opinions or con- 
jectures concerning him — if what he has fixed as the terms 
of life and death will stand in spite of our notions and fancies, 
the impenitent sinner, be he who he may — wise or ignorant, 
rich or poor, moral or immoral, a little sinner or a great sin- 
ner — is stripped of all hope by the text. We have the decla- 
ration, " Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish ;" and 
it is the decision of him who "hath the keys of hell and 
death," who " openeth and no man shutteth, who shutteth and 
no man openeth." 

2. From facts. 

The solemn declaration in the text is an appeal to acknowl- 
edged facts. The slaughter of the Galileans by the sword of 
Pilate, and the destruction of the eighteen by the fall of the 
Tower of Siloam, were well-known instances of divine judg- 
ment against sin. Sinners have perished — sinners distinguished 
by no peculiarity of guilt — sinners, therefore, in whose case 
there was no more reason to anticipate the righteous judg- 



THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 279 

ments of heaven than there is to anticipate it in other cases. 
"What God has done in these instances, there is every reason to 
believe he will do in others like them. This is the argument 
of our Lord, and it comes to us in unabated force. For what 
was there in those Galileans and Jews, why God, immutably 
just and holy, should deal with them in the severity of right- 
eous retribution, which is not to be found in the case of im- 
penitent sinners of this age, and this place ? Let the point of 
difference be told, if it be known. Beyond this, we might 
appeal not only to instances of individual sinners, but we may 
see the truth before us in the destruction of thousands and 
millions by the deluge, by the storm of lire and brimstone, 
and by the massacre of the Jews by the Komans, and in all 
cases in which the divine judgments have hurried the guilty 
without preparation into eternity. In the whole history of his 
providence, in this record of his own doings, God has pre- 
sented himself, in every age, a God taking vengeance. He 
has not punished one, and suffered another to escape. He has 
appeared but in one character, revealed himself in very deed, 
in awful and uniform consistency, for six thousand years ; and 
through the whole series of his dealings, not a solitary excep- 
tion has occurred to authorize a doubt or suspicion of what he 
will continue to do. Whether, therefore, we can unfold the 
fitness and equity of this procedure or not, whether we can 
establish the truth in the text by independent reasonings of 
our own or not, may be left out of the question. Under the 
administration of a God of infinite perfection, final and eternal 
ruin has overtaken the impenitent in every age. The solemn 
truth, "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish," meets 
us in the stubborn, unyielding aspect of a matter of fact. 

3. From the moral government of God. 

That God has established a moral government is one of 
those facts which the lowest depravity of man seldom, if ever, 
has denied. It is so clearly taught by what man knows of 
himself, of his relations to his fellow-men, and to his Maker, 
that all the darkness of heathenism has not been able to efface 



280 THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 

the conviction from the human mind. The veriest profligacy 
of atheism itself has ever been forced to admit that there is a 
right and a wrong in human conduct But if God, in his in- 
finite wisdom and goodness, has established a moral govern- 
ment — if, as the essential part of such a government, he has 
promulgated a law as the rule of conduct — if he has enforced 
that law by the necessary sanctions — if the ends aimed at by 
such a government be more important than any other which 
God himself could discover, then that government will be 
maintained. I know that there are loose, imperfect notions on 
this subject in most minds. With respect to it, most men 
are in the deepest midnight of ignorance. They scarcely see 
or know a reason why God should punish his creatures. Here 
is the reason. God, as the means of the highest good to the 
universe, has established a moral government. The measure 
is worthy of a God, and the question concerning the mainte- 
nance of that government is no other than whether God 
shall be God — whether God shall be glorified. What, then, 
must become, what ought to become of the persevering rebel 
against the most High ? Shall God suffer him to escape the 
threatened and yet defied penalty of his government, and 
thus subvert his throne? Shall God relinquish the designs 
of infinite wisdom and goodness, and the means of accom- 
plishing those designs, for the rebel's sake? Especially, when 
to secure these designs in behalf of rebels themselves, he 
has given his Son to become a curse for them, and they still 
persist in their impenitent rejection of his mercy? Will he 
thus stamp with folly the work of redeeming grace? Any 
conscience can answer. No; God will roll on this plan of 
his own to its final consummation, though it overwhelms a 
revolted world in hell ; and the result would show that his 
wisdom and his goodness — his very existence as God — re- 
quired that every impenitent sinner should be put in that 
place of perdition. We may imagine and theorize, and think 
and dream on this subject, but our conjectures and our theories, 
in competition with the principles of God's moral government, 



THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 281 

will be as tow amid the fires of the last conflagration. If there 
be such a thing as a moral government — if there be such a 
thing as a high, and holy, and divine Legislator — if there be 
such a thing as a throne in heaven, and if the infinite God 
sits upon it, then with all the weight of an eternal truth should 
it settle on every mind, " Except ye repent, ye shall all like- 
wise perish." 

4. From the moral character of God. 

It is not necessary to dwell on the argument which might 
be drawn from each particular attribute of the Deity. There 
is one great and comprehensive perfection which includes and 
pervades every other. I mean the holiness of God. Now, 
without repentance, the sinner still continues to be a sinner — 
the enemy of holiness and of God. The purposes of God, 
and the character which he displays in accomplishing his de- 
signs, the sinner steadily hates and opposes. But all this guilt 
and pollution, all this vileness and odiousness of character, are 
naked to the omniscient eye. As a holy God, he must regard 
it with absolute abhorrence and ceaseless displeasure. To sup- 
pose otherwise, is to suppose God either to approve, or to be 
indifferent to what is directly opposite to himself, and worthy 
of his eternal rebuke. It is to suppose God to hate, or wholly 
disregard his own perfections and glory. But can a spotless 
God hate himself? Can his own infinite perfection become an 
object of indifference to himself? Can he fail to abhor sin 
with a measure of indignation proportioned to the purity and 
infinitude of his nature ? Will he forfeit the character which 
commands the adoration of all heaven, and dismiss from his 
Godhead that attribute to support and honor which he has 
given his Son to die on the cross ? And will the omnipotence 
of God sleep, when the holiness of God is offended to the ut- 
termost? "When we look at the holiness of God, in its aspect 
of irreconcilable hostility to all sin — when we look at that 
inaccessible height of purity and splendor at which it raises 
him, above all possible perfection of his creatures, so that 
angels are charged with folly before him — when we think of 



282 THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 

those pure eyes which cannot behold iniquity — when we think 
of that sanctuary of his presence into which nothing can enter 
that defileth — a sanctuary guarded by all the jealousies of the 
divine nature — when we hear that voice of adoration to a 
thrice holy God, which makes the pillars of his temple tremble, 
we know that God is a consuming fire, we know that the fury 
of his indignation will go forth in the eternal destruction of 
his impenitent enemies. 

5. From the character of the impenitent. 

Character will decide the allotments of eternity. The last 
breath will fix the character beyond all change, and " he that 
is holy will be holy still, and he that is filthy will be filthy 
still." Now, we do not appeal to an arbitrary decision of 
God to determine the state of an impenitent sinner after death, 
but to his own character as then becoming unchangeable, and 
ask where and how must his eternity be spent? From the 
world, the only source of happiness to him now, he cannot 
then derive a particle of enjoyment. In heaven, though ad- 
mitted there, he could not find it. He has neither taste nor 
capacity for its services, for its society, or its joys. The very 
foundation of all the happiness of that world is holiness. 
Every being, every affection, every pursuit, every enjoyment 
is holy. With such society the impenitent sinner could not 
unite, such affections he could not exercise, in such pursuits 
he could not engage, in such enjoyments he could not partake. 
He does not love those who are holy on earth, he exercises no 
holy affections, he engages in no holy employments, he relishes 
no holy joys. God he does not love, in Jesus he does not 
trust, in Christians he does not delight — in the law of God, in 
the gospel of his Son, in his Sabbath, or his sanctuary, he finds 
no delight. What happiness, then, is there for him ever in 
heaven ? Saints and angels would shun his society as still the 
enemy of God and the Saviour ; and he would find himself 
alone, a forsaken outcast, the object of unmingled contempt 
and scorn amid the happy throng. " Holy, holy, holy, Lord 
God Almighty," is the delightful anthem of each celestial, 



THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE. 283 

and that God the sinner hates. With still higher rapture each 
redeemed spirit cries, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, 
and has redeemed us to God by his blood." But every note 
of that song would be a lie on the sinner's tongue, and anguish 
to his heart. To fulfill the high commands of God would be 
a painful drudgery, and to behold him face to face would over- 
whelm him in the agonies of conscious guilt. Whither, then, 
shall he fly? In heaven he cannot dwell. So surely as his 
body must be transformed before he could be insensible to 
pain amid the fires of the pit, so surely must his soul be trans- 
formed before he could fail to feel a weariness — yea, a torment 
amid the hallelujahs of paradise. 

Where, then, and how shall he be happy? If in any way, 
by indulging his desires, by acting out his dispositions in cor- 
responding conduct. And where and how shall this be done ? 
In hell, in the rage and blasphemies of the enemies of God. 
Hell, then, is his only refuge; for that world and its em- 
ployments only is he prepared. So long as he remains impen- 
itent, so long his love of sin remains ; and a sinful mind, in a 
disembodied state, cannot be happy. God cannot make that 
mind happy, except by making it holy — by making the sinner 
penitent. The love of sin will become more and more intense. 
In all the restlessness and woe of intense, unsatisfied desire, 
wounded by the arrows of an angry conscience, he must be 
wretched. Take away, then, all the chains, and bars, and 
gates of the eternal prison — let the impenitent sinner go away 
from its dark and woeful regions, he carries hell within him. 
His character — his very disposition make hell. Himself is 
hell. 

We do not, then, appeal to an arbitrary decision of God to 
determine the state of the impenitent sinner after death, but 
to the nature of things — the nature of the mind, and his own 
character. We see that impenitence is itself perdition in its 
deepest horrors. 

Thus I have endeavored to lay before you the nature of true 
repentance, and the necessity of it, to avoid everlasting de~ 



284 THE NECESSITY OP REPENTANCE. 

struction. B&pent or perish is the great alternative of the 
gospel. One or the other must be realized in the case of every 
hnman being. And as surely as a day is coming which will 
place all men on the right or left hand of the Judge — all men 
in heaven or hell — so surely is there in the character of every 
human being a foundation for that final and awful discrimina- 
tion. There is a line which separates the whole race into two 
great and awfully important divisions — a line which takes its 
own steady and undeviating way through this assembly, and 
on one or the other side of which each is placed, and accord- 
ing to the situation of each — should instant death overtake us 
— the allotment of each would be fixed in eternal bliss or woe. 
It is, then, a question of most momentous interest, my dear 
hearers, on which side of that line are you ? To answer this 
question, you have only to answer another — have you repented 
or have you not ? Have you seen, in the light of God's glory, 
how exceeding sinful sin is ? Do you hate sin, for its own in- 
trinsic turpitude and odiousness ? Is it because it is opposed 
to a holy, perfect God, a God whose excellence you see and 
love? Is it because it is against a law that is holy, and just, 
and good, that you hate sin and mourn over it ? Does your 
sorrow and aversion to sin lead you to forsake it ? Is it your 
supreme desire to be freed from it, and to become holy like 
God ; and does this desire prompt to effort, and do these efforts 
produce the actual result of holiness of heart and life ? 

It is easy for you to put aside these questions — it is easy to 
dismiss the subject which involves your eternal all, in some 
loose and superficial way suggested by carnal sloth and stu- 
pidity, and pretexts of unbelief. Thus most of you have a 
thousand and a thousand and a thousand times dismissed it. 
The same causes for putting it away from you still exist, and 
will exist till the hour of death. But the subject cannot be 
dismissed on the judgment-day. There will then be a deci- 
sion, a final decision for eternity. Have you repented of your 
sins against God ? If your conscience answers, as in many 
cases it does, that you have not, then I ask you will you re- 



THE NECESSITY OE REPENTANCE. 285 

pent now? Who, in this congregation, is so abandoned to 
wickedness as not to feel the desirableness of reformation — 
who does not look forward to his own repentance as a delight- 
ful object of attainment in the future? Who can say, in the 
sincerity of his soul, " Let me live and let me die without the 
least contrition for my sins against God ?" Who, were it not 
for th.e insignificant pleasures of sin, would defer his repent- 
ance for an instant ? Say not that you intend to repent at a 
future period. Better resolve that you never will repent, for 
this is a resolution which probably you could not keep ; the 
other is easily kept till the day of mercy is gone. The ques- 
tion, then, is : will you repent of your sins against the God 
that made you, and the Saviour that died for you, to-day f 
Bear with my importunity. I know I must meet you at the 
bar of judgment ; and there, if you reject the call of the gos- 
pel, I must see you sink under its fearful curse. This may be 
the last time I shall call you, and, my dear hearers, I am in 
earnest. God is in earnest, when he now commands all men 
to repent. The Holy Ghost is in earnest, while he touches 
your conscience and your heart. Angels are in earnest, while 
they wait to witness your purpose, and long for your return 
to life and to God. Saints are in earnest, while they lift the 
cry for mercy in your behalf. Hell and its legions are in 
earnest, while they strive to prevent or weaken your resolu- 
tion, and to draw you downward to perdition. Jesus your 
Saviour is in earnest, while, amid the agonies of his cross, he 
comes to you in the accents of entreating mercy, and now, in 
the hearing of you, declares : "Except ye repent, ye shall all 
likewise perish." Will you not be in earnest, too ? Will you 
repent? Can you hesitate? What is the world, if your soul 
must perish in hell ? What is your life ? A brittle thread. 
And once broken, what is the eternity before you? Oh, look 
at your approaching doom! How certain — how inevitable! 
See it in God's declarations — see it in that wreck of souls 
which sin spreads around you — see it in the stabilities of God's 
eternal throne — see it in that attribute of holiness which con- 



THE NECESSITY OF EEPENTANCE. 

stitutes his own divinity — see it in your own character, in the 
hell that is within you. It must come. You must perish. 
How powerless the desire of man ! How resistless the decree 
of God! 






XXL 

IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

2 COEINTHIANS vi. 2. 

11 Behold, now is the day of salvation.' 

During the present life the character of every child of 
Adam will be formed and fixed for eternity. Of no part of 
this short and fleeting probation can we be sure, save the 
passing moment. While, therefore, the Scriptures represent 
man as a prisoner of hope so long as life lasts, they assign to 
the present moment the unspeakable importance of being that 
portion of life in which, and perhaps the only one in which, 
his salvation can be secured. 

On this subject there are two practical errors on the part of 
impenitent men, which are equally fatal. The most common, 
perhaps, is, that repentance is a duty which may as well be 
done at one time as at another ; that it is a work of such easy 
and sure accomplishment, that little or no danger attends the 
delay of it. Hence such multitudes, under the light of sal- 
vation, sleep on in sin and die forever. The other error, not 
less fatal, and very common, is, that present repentance is 
utterly out of the question — a thing on their part utterly hope- 
less at the present time, and, as a present act, to be entirely 
despaired of. This is fatal, because under this view of his 
condition not an effort to obtain salvation would ever be made 
by a human being. "Who will attempt to do at any moment 
what at that moment he despairs of doing? 

The text, by clear implication, teaches what may be called 
the present practicability of salvation. 

The season denominated " the day of salvation" is that in 



288 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

which salvation may be obtained; and when it is said, "Now 
is the day of salvation," we are plainly taught that the time 
in which this blessing may be secured is the present time. 

The doctrine contained in the text is, that — 

The sinner is authorized to regard immediate compliance 
with the terms of salvation, as a practicable duty. 

From this statement of the doctrine it may be understood 
to apply to man, both as a moral agent and as dependent on 
divine grace; and in this large sense it is intended that it 
should be understood. That is practicable to man which he 
has power to perform. If, therefore, he is a moral agent, then 
he has power to perform every duty which God requires, and 
is therefore fully authorized to regard immediate compliance 
with the terms of salvation as a duty which can be done. 

"When I say that immediate compliance with the terms of 
salvation is to be regarded as a duty practicable to the sinner, 
viewed as dependent on divine grace, I do not mean that 
there are not some sinners who never will be brought to re- 
pentance. Doubtless there are many such. Neither do I in- 
tend to assert that any thing which the sinner will do without 
renewing grace, creates an absolute certainty or even a strong 
probability, that his heart will be changed. But I mean that 
he has ample warrant for the conclusion that compliance with 
the terms of salvation, is an event which may take place the 
next moment. 

I. There is no decisive proof to the contrary. 

The fact that God j udicially abandons some to final impeni- 
tence, is no warrant to any individual to conclude that he is 
thus abandoned. Many a sinner has awful reason to fear 
that such is his case ; but God has nowhere so designated his 
case — nowhere, either in his word or providence, so marked 
out any individual as already abandoned to hopeless impeni- 
tence, as to warrant the absolute conclusion that such is his 
unhappy condition. 

Further, the doctrine of regeneration furnishes no decisive 
proof on the point in question. The doctrine of regeneration 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 289 

is, that the grace of God is necessary — necessary through the 
sinner's perverseness in sin — to bring the sinner to repentance. 
But the necessity of such influence is no proof that it will not 
he given. It is necessary that God should preserve life, hut 
no one infers from this necessity that his life will not be pre- 
served. 

Again, the doctrine of election furnishes no proof that God 
will not give repentance to the sinner. The doctrine is, that 
God has determined to give repentance to some, even to many, 
of our guilty race. But surely the purpose of the unchange- 
able God to give repentance to some, is no proof that he will 
not give repentance to any, nor, of course, that he will not 
give it to this or that particular person. True, if you are not 
elected, you will not repent. But possibly you may be 
elected. God has determined that the life of multitudes shall 
not be prolonged another day. This surely is no proof to any 
individual that he will die before night. 

Again, the doctrine of God's sovereignty in the dispensation 
of his Spirit, is no proof that he will not now give the sinner 
repentance. So far from it, that it can be shown that this 
doctrine is peculiarly fitted to urge the sinner to instant duty. 

Three views of the dispensation of the Spirit may be taken. 
One, that God will wait and be ready to grant his Spirit when- 
ever the sinner is ready to receive it. The second, that he 
will not now grant repentance. The third, that he will do as 
he pleases — give or not give, as it seemeth good in his sight. 
Now, to illustrate the tendency of these views, let us suppose 
a case. Suppose a man wishes to go from one place to an- 
other by steamboat, and that on the most urgent and import- 
ant business. Suppose, also, like every sinner, he has some 
business of less consequence which he would be glad to trans- 
act before he sets off. Suppose, now, he sends a servant to 
the captain of the boat to see whether he will not accommo- 
date him in this respect by waiting half an hour, and the captain 
to return one of the following answers : first, " That he will 
wait as he wishes." Now he goes quietly to his business here 
Yol. I.— 13 19 



290 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

instead of hastening to the boat. Or, " He will not wait a 
moment beyond the hour." The man looks at his watch and 
finds it too late ; it cannot be done now ; and all is despair, 
and of course no effort. But the third answer is, " He will do 
as he pleases ;" and now he looks at his watch and sees that 
he may reach the boat and he may not. Now he runs ; he 
flies. Not a moment must be lost. So the sinner, if he be- 
lieves he can safely defer, he will defer. If there is no hope 
from present action he will not act. But when by immediate 
action he may succeed, and by delay all may be lost, then, if 
ever, will he hasten to his God and Saviour. 

Further, the number and aggravations of the sins of an 
individual is no proof that God will not give him repentance. 
Were his guilt so great, as persons sometimes imagine, that 
God cannot pardon, then, indeed, it might be true that God 
would not grant converting grace. But to warrant this con- 
clusion, even in such a case, the person must know the fact 
that such is the degree of his guilt, a fact which God never 
reveals, and concerning which he never furnishes to any indi- 
vidual in this life the means of deciding. Nor is this all. The 
premises are false. God can pardon the greatest as well as 
the least sinner. Atoning blood is sufficient for the forgive- 
ness of a world. In heaven there is room for all. The invi- 
tation extends over this revolted world and summons every 
dweller on the face of it to accept of the great salvation. 

Once more. The want of conviction is no proof that im- 
mediate repentance is impracticable. What is conviction? 
A deep sense of guilt and ruin. What length of time, then, 
is necessary that one who knows that he is a sinner against 
God, and justly condemned to eternal death, may feel it? 
What if he saw his body in the same danger in which his soul 
is; how long before he would feel that? In an instant. And 
what is certain in one case is possible in the other — yea, cer- 
tain in the other, if he did not resist the power of the truth 
which he believes. There is not a sinner in this assembly 
who would not this moment be an awakened sinner, did he not 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 291 

shut out that light from heaven which discloses to him his 
guilt and his condemnation. The want of conviction, then, 
does not render immediate repentance impracticable. 

Nor is it a proof that immediate repentance is impracticable, 
that conviction has continued long, but to no salutary purpose. 
It is no uncommon fact that sinners have been long impressed 
with religious things without being converted. They seem, in 
their own language, to have done every thing which they can 
do, to give their hearts to God, but all to no purpose, and 
hence conclude the event to be impossible. Now, there is 
much reason to believe that this state of mind has, in many 
instances, been followed by immediate repentance. It is, there- 
fore, no proof that the same may not be true in other instances. 
A degree of self-righteousness, or pride, or something else, may 
have occasioned the failure of all past efforts. The next effort 
may be without such defect — the next effort may surmount all 
former obstacles — the next effort, though a thousand previous 
efforts have been vain, may be that by which, through the 
grace of God, the work will be done. 

I have now considered the principal, if not all the reasons, 
for the opinion that immediate repentance is impracticable. 
If the remarks be just, this opinion has not the shadow of 
evidence for its support. 

I shall now proceed to offer — 

II. Some direct proof of our doctrine. 

1. The text, and many similar declarations. 

We have already remarked that the text clearly implies 
that there is a time when salvation may be secured. Similar 
declarations will readily occur to every reader of the Scrip- 
tures. Now, it is incredible that God should so decisively and 
frequently declare that there is a time, even the present, when 
salvation is attainable, and yet have left the sinner to believe 
that present compliance with the terms on which the blessing 
is offered, is utterly impracticable. Let any one read the 
declaration from God, "Behold, now is the accepted time; 
behold, now is the day of salvation," and say whether he can 



292 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

deny the possibility of his repenting this moment, without 
charging God with falsehood ! 

2. The commands of God. 

God now commandeth all men everywhere to repent. All 
the commands of God impose present obligation, and urge to 
immediate obedience. Now, when the commands of God in 
this form meet us on every page of this holy book, what is 
the natural inference? That the immediate submission to 
these commands is utterly out of the question ? That days, 
and weeks, and months, or even years, must elapse before 
obedience can be regarded as possible ? Why has God issued 
his commands to men? Is not one reason this, that men should 
obey them? Does not God design and expect that some at 
least will obey them? But, surely, none will obey them 
while they regard obedience as utterly impossible? No mat- 
ter what the impossibility is. It is true, indeed, that a moral 
impossibility, or what is the same thing, perverseness of heart, 
is consistent with obligation to obey. But so long as man 
believes himself to be subject to such an impossibility, with- 
out relief from any source, he will never make an effort at 
obedience. He will sit still in sullen despondence. Just so 
certain, then, as God expects men to obey his commands, just 
so certain is it, that he furnishes no warrant for them to be- 
lieve that such obedience is impracticable. The most distinct 
utterance that ever broke from the eternal throne on mortal 
ears is, " My Son, give me thine heart ;" and who shall say 
that God is not sincere, or that man is doomed to another 
moment's disobedience ? 

3. The means used to bring men to compliance. 

Not only the commands of God, but all his warnings, all 
his threatenings, all his rebukes, all his invitations, entreaties, 
and expostulations, unite with all his providential dispensa- 
tions, to stop the sinner in his iniquity, and to bring him to 
an immediate submission to the terms of the gospel. He dis- 
closes to him his awful condition. " He that believeth not, is 
condemned already." He leaves him no ground of hope or 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 293 

quiet in his present state. "There is no peace, saith my God, 
to the wicked." He reproves him for his continued abuse of 
his own patience and forbearance toward him. " Or despisest 
thou the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suf- 
fering ?" He reminds him of the shortness and uncertainty of 
his probation. " What is your life ? a vapor that appeareth 
for a little time, and then vanishes away;" " Ye know not what 
shall be on the morrow." He unfolds the great principle of 
the dispensation of the Spirit. " My Spirit shall not always 
strive." He apprises him of the danger of perverting the ad- 
monitions of his word. " He that is often reproved, and hard- 
eneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without 
remedy." He laments over his wasted day of mercy. " Oh 
that thou hadst known even thou at least in this thy day." He 
brings all his tenderness and compassion to touch his heart, 
and urges it upon his notice, under the solemnity of an oath, 
saying, " As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the 
deatli of the wicked ;" "Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?" 
And with all that earnestness of entreaty, and authority of 
command, and solemnity of warning, as if the present were 
the only time, he says, "Torday, if ye will hear his voice, 
harden not your hearts." 

In his providence, he plants the path of sin with thorns. In 
his kindness to the sinner, he suffers him not to be completely 
happy for a moment. He visits with afflictions, to teach the 
vanity of the world. He pours out his blessings, to conduct 
to himself as the source of all good. Constantly, suddenly, 
unexpectedly, he surrounds us with the dead and the dying, 
and makes us hear his voice, saying, "Be ye also ready, for in 
such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh." Now, 
whence is all this? Why does God, in all his efforts to save 
sinners, thus crowd the concerns of eternity into the present 
moment? Why, as if there were no other day of hope, does 
he, as it were, make our eternal all, depend on the present ? Is 
it, that we may believe that some future time will be better 
fitted to the purpose? Has God thus designated the present 



294 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

time for the great work of repentance and salvation, and yet 
is the sinner to suppose that this is the time, and the only time 
in which the work cannot be done? That some future time 
will be even better than the present? or is he to believe as 
God would have him believe, that if he ever can repent, he 
can repent now? 

4. I appeal to facts. 

I do not here appeal merely to facts as they fall under our 
own observation. From these we are liable to derive very 
different and often erroneous conclusions. Could we look 
with an omniscient eye into the mind of the converted sinner, 
we should probably often find the process of thought and feel- 
ing very diverse from what we are accustomed to suppose. 
Be this as it may, facts, as they fall under our observation, 
furnish a very doubtful source of argument respecting the 
methods of divine grace, compared with facts recorded by the 
Spirit of truth. Let us, then, appeal to these. How long 
after Peter preached on the day of Pentecost was it before 
three thousand of his hearers repented ? It was on the same 
day. How long after Paul spake to women on the side of the 
river at Philippi, before Lydia repented ? While he was yet 
speaking the Lord opened her heart, that she attended to the 
things spoken by Paul. How long after the jailor asked, 
" What must I do to be saved V* and was answered by the 
same apostle, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou 
shalt be saved," before he received the Saviour ? It was " the 
same hour of the night." Many other instances might be 
mentioned. Indeed, the whole history of the progress of the 
gospel exhibits this, as the uniform method of divine grace in 
converting sinners. Do you say these were miraculous con- 
versions? I reply first, that your assertion is without proof. 
Secondly, if these recorded instances do not unfold the method 
of God's grace, we have no sure instruction on the subject. 
And thirdly, that where we find similar causes we find similar 
effects, in every age. It would be easy to show, did time per- 
mit, that under that kind of preaching which most resembles 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 295 

the preaching of the apostles, that sudden conversions have 
always been common. Here, then, we have plain matters of 
fact. No sooner has the gospel been brought before the minds 
of sinners — no sooner have their guilt, their obligations, and 
their duty been shown to them, and urged upon their con- 
science, than they have repented. What has occurred on this 
subject, may occur again. And the sinner, when divine truth 
is brought home to his conscience, has as much reason to think 
that in. that same hour he may repent, as the jailor had. 

5. Evidence to the same point is furnished by the nature of 
the subject, and the providence of God. 

Compliance with the terms of salvation, whether we consid- 
er it as repentance or faith, or love, or regeneration, is an effect 
produced by the instrumentality of divine truth. Reasoning, 
then, from the nature of the human mind, and the nature of 
divine truth, how long a time should we naturally conclude 
would be requisite for such truth as God's truth to take effect? 
How long a time is necessary, when a man is told that his 
house is on fire, to secure the influence of the truth ? — or if 
his property, or his life is in danger, to feel such truth ? How 
much longer time should we reasonably suppose would be 
necessary for him to feel the truth, that his soul is under God's 
righteous condemnation, and exposed to eternal perdition? 
How much longer to feel the truth, that there is an all- 
sufficient and glorious Saviour able and ready to save? 
How much longer to intrust his soul to his keeping? How 
much longer, with the glories of a perfect God revealed, to love 
him? How much longer with the odious and abominable 
nature of sin exhibited, to hate that? Plainly, an affection 
or purpose of the heart a week or an hour long in the form- 
ing, would be as much of an anomaly in religion as in any 
other concern. No ; it is a thing which, if done at all, must 
be done at once — done, as it were, in an indivisible moment. 
Why, then, so far as time is concerned, may not this purpose 
be taken now, and taken once for all ? 

So far as the nature of the mind is concerned, or the nature 



296 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

of the thing to be done, it were natural to suppose that man 
should feel such truth as God's truth, as soon, and as powerfully 
as any other truth, and act accordingly. But the objection 
arises — sin has benumbed the moral sensibilities of the soul — 
the depraved heart resists the truth of God. Yes ; and it al- 
ways will, so long as you think it must. Yes ; the depraved 
heart does resist. But is it not the very office and work of the 
Spirit of God to remove this insensibility, and overcome this 
resistance ? Is the Spirit of the Lord straitened ? Do you know 
that he is not even now striving to do it, and that with your 
consent he would not do it ? Do you know that this moment, 
of all the future moments of your probation, is not the bright- 
est with hope ? Can you assign any reason why God will not 
give effect to divine truth to-day, as well as to-morrow? The 
longer the sinner resists the Holy Ghost, the more he multi- 
plies his provocations ; the longer he despises the authority of 
God, and rejects the Lord Jesus Christ, the less likely is that 
divine agent to renew the sinner's heart. Will accumulated 
guilt, years of rebellion, violence to conscience, obduracy of 
heart, habitual hardihood in despising God, and heaven, and 
hell, prepare the way for converting grace? But you say, will 
he do it to-day ? That is not the question. Are you sure that 
if you awake, as you may, to your eternal concerns, and bring 
yourself in sober earnest to the work of giving your heart to 
God, that by the power of the Holy Ghost you will not do it ? 
Is not God on a throne of grace — is he not reigning there to 
carry on the work of redemption, to regenerate and sanctify, 
and save just such sinners as you? Open your eyes, see the 
hundreds around you who were going in the same path to hell 
in which you are; but who, by the grace of God, are now 
humble penitents for sin, devoted believers in the Lord Jesus, 
and fellow-heirs of his glory. And is your repentance im- 
possible? See God on the mercy-seat, hear his declaration 
that now is the day of salvation. Listen to his calls and en- 
treaties, consider what he has done and is now doing to bring 
you to repentance — look at facts as recorded on the sacred 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 297 

page — reflect on the nature of the subject, and survey the 
scene of divine wonders spread around you — these monuments 
of the grace of a present God ; and who is the sinner, in this 
house, of whom it can be said by man or angel, that he may 
not repent before yonder sun shall go down ? 



REMARKS. 

1. We see the folly of those who refuse all efforts in the 
work of their salvation, on the ground that success is uncer- 
tain. 

Many there are who natter themselves that they would be- 
gin the work of turning to God, in solemn earnest, were they 
sure of success ; but the fear of failure and of shame holds 
them back. So long as God in his word and his providence 
authorizes sinners to regard their salvation as possible, so long 
it is folly approaching madness to sleep in sin. More than 
this they ought not, in friendship to themselves, to desire — 
more than this, God in kindness to them does not authorize. 
Such is their love of the world, and such their love of quiet 
in sin, that were there a certain connection between any efforts 
of sinners and their salvation, such efforts would never be 
made. Sloth, then, stupidity and inaction, because the suc- 
cess of their efforts is uncertain, is perverting the most salutary 
truth — truth, which in its adaptation to its end, bespeaks the 
riches of the mercy that revealed it — truth, than which, God 
in mercy to the sinner, could reveal no other. Appeal to com- 
mon sense. in all other cases. You are sinking in the waves, 
with the bare possibility of deliverance through the utmost 
exertion ; would you, therefore, relinquish effort? A falling 
rock is descending from the precipice that hangs over your 
head ; a bare possibility of escape is all that is left. Sitting 
still, you must be crushed in instant death ; will you, there- 
fore, make no effort to move ? Like this, my hearers, is the 
situation, such is the folly of those of you who yet remain 
stupid in sin. Hell and destruction are just before you. 
13* 



298 IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

"isTow of a long time your destruction lingereth not, youi 
damnation slumbereth not." Sleep a little longer, and you 
are lost, lost forever. " Behold, now is the day of salvation." 

2. When ministers exhort sinners to immediate repentance, 
they ought to be understood to mean what they say. 

Plainly, as such exhortations are founded in the unerring 
truth of God, and as plainly, too, as they contain substantially 
the only true and proper directions to be given, they are often 
regarded as insincere, as strange, inapplicable, or even as the 
result of artifice. So erroneous are the views of many of the 
doctrines of dependence on the grace of God, so inconsistent 
are these views with the obligation and practicability of im- 
mediate repentance, that they can hardly persuade themselves 
that ministers who confine their directions to this duty are sin- 
cere and honest. But they are sincere, they are honest, they 
mean exactly what they say. And if the dependence of the 
sinner on the grace of God, is consistent with the practicability 
of repentance — if it be true, when we thus instruct sinners 
in their duty, that God peradventure may give them repent- 
ance, why doubt either our honesty or consistency? The 
apostles were sincere, and the Lord Jesus Christ was sin- 
cere, when they gave such exhortations. God is sincere 
when he commands sinners to repent. And, my hearers, 
if I know my own heart at all, if I am sincere in any thing, 
I am when, in the name of God, I exhort you to repent, and 
to repent now. I disclaim all duplicity. I mean as I say. I 
do not intend merely that you should be awakened, merely 
that you should be more deeply convicted, more distressed for 
sin, more alarmed. I mean that you should repent, and re- 
pent novj. I mean that you should regard it as a concern now 
on hand, and put yourself to it with all the urgency which 
becomes a work so momentous — a work which may be done — 
which ought to be done, and which must be done, or you must 
be damned. Always, whether in the pulpit, or on other oc- 
casions, when I exhort you to repent or believe, to give up 
your heart to God, and to do it at once — do me the justice to 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 299 

believe that I mean as I say — believe that at that moment 
it is possible that you should repent. For, if that moment 
never comes in which you shall believe, that you may repent, 
and must repent, you never will, but will perish. 

3. We see the guilt and danger of those who deny the 
practicability of immediate repentance, and thus persist in 
their sins. 

This is a common perversion. Many there are who tell lis, 
in reply to the rightful claims of God, that a new heart, re- 
pentance, &c, are his gift, that they cannot repent themselves, 
but must wait God's time. And what is this but casting 
the blame of their continued impenitence upon God, a just- 
ifying plea for their continued rebellion against him ? And 
is it so? Are men free moral agents, fully qualified to 
do their duty, and accountable to God ? Do they know who 
God is ; what his law is ; what his gospel is ; and can they 
vindicate their impenitence by the plea of inability ? Do they 
believe that not themselves but God has been to blame all 
this time for their continued impenitence? They know better. 
To all the guilt of a life of rebellion against God, they add the 
guilt of knowingly, impiously, and falsely casting the blame 
on God. They cherish that perverseness of heart against God, 
that determined spirit of rebellion which all the motives in 
the universe cannot subdue, and then plead it as a justifying 
inability — make their very guilt their vindication, their very 
desert of hell their title to eternal life. Nor are their guilt 
and opposition to God less obvious in another light. Where 
has God told them, that their immediate repentance is imprac- 
ticable ; where has God told them that so far as his grace is 
necessary that such grace is not ready, and has not always 
been ; and how, when they appear at his bar, will they be able 
to prove it, and thus to make out the truth of their plea, and 
that the real, only difficulty did not lie in the hostility of the 
heart ? Beyond this, so long as you indulge the thought that 
you cannot repent now, you never will repent. My hearers, 
if any of you are indulging notions like these, I warn you be- 



300 IMMEDIATE EEPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 

forehand that the judgment-day will correct your error. It 
will then appear that yon were a complete moral agent, fully 
qualified to do your duty ; that you loved the world better 
than God ; and when the question shall be asked, why did 
you not love God, believe on his Son, and repent of sin, your 
mouth will be stopped by the consciousness that you ought to 
have done it, might have done it, and would not do it. It 
will then appear also, that God never authorized the conclu- 
sion that his grace was not ready ; that it is a device of your 
own to escape from your duty to God your Saviour, and that 
you knew it to be so. It will then appear that you never put 
this question, concerning the readiness of God's grace, fairly to 
the test of experience, never spent one day or hour in solemn, 
earnest eiforts to give your heart to God. Your guilt as a 
moral agent, and as dependent on the grace of God, will be 
uncovered, assembled worlds will approve the sentence of 
your Judge, and you, in all the horrors of anticipation, will 
go away to the reality of a double damnation. 

4. " Behold, now is the accepted time, now is the day of 
salvation." 

Fellow-sinner, if you cannot repent to-day, when can you ? 
Now, God waits to be gracious. Now, in all the sincerity of 
infinite love, salvation with eternal glory is offered. Now, 
with all the yearnings of a parent, over froward, ruined chil- 
dren, with all the tenderness of a redeeming God, you are en- 
treated to turn and live. And if you cannot repent to-day, 
when can you ? Now, your sins are fewer, your provocations 
less ; now, you have the use of every faculty ; now, the truths 
of God are known to you ; now, the interests of eternity are in 
your thoughts ; now, your obligation to repent is felt ; now, 
your guilt is felt ; now, you are half resolved to begin the 
work in earnest ; now, you are convinced that it ought to be 
done, and must be done — that nothing will be lost, that every 
thing will be gained by the doing of it. And if you cannot 
repent now, when can you ? Now God commands, Jesus in- 
vites, the Holy Ghost strives — all holy beings look with deep 



IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 301 

solicitude upon you. Saints pray ; angels have sung in rap- 
turous song the proclamation of "good will" to the guilty and 
the lost. Jesus hath wept over them, and still follows them 
with the entreaties of his love. Heaven lifts up its everlast- 
ing doors and throws open its everlasting gates. God hath laid 
aside his terrors, and comes, a beseeching suppliant, to his way- 
ward children ; he has cleared away the darkness and storm 
from his throne, and looks upon you with the aspect, the 
smile of inviting love. The broad flag of peace and re- 
conciliation floats on heaven's high portals, crowns of life 
attract, thrones of glory allure, palms of victory, robes of 
righteousness, and songs, and bliss, and joy forevermore, invite 
you to God's eternal presence ; and now, with his commission 
in his stead,y<9r God and in his name, we beseech you to receive 
his great salvation. To-morrow, you may be dead ; to-morrow 
may look upon your body in the grave, and on your soul in 
the pit of anguish and despair ; to-morrow, and the Holy 
Ghost, who now touches your heart and makes you sober and 
solemn, may, for your rejecting this offer of mercy, never 
touch that heart again. If you cannot repent now, when can 
you? 



XXII. 

ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE. 

Luke xiii. 24. 

" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter 
in, and shall not be able." 

With great propriety and force our Lord often represented 
human life, under the image of a journey through this world 
into that which is eternal. In his sermon on the mount, he 
adopts this metaphor, and in a manner equally just and alarm- 
ing, exhibits the different courses which men pursue through 
this world, and the different ends to which death at last con- 
ducts them. " Enter ye in at the strait gate, for wide is the 
gate and broad is the way which leadeth to destruction ; and 
many there be which go in thereat, because strait is the gate 
and naiTow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there 
be that find it." 

The instruction of this passage is substantially the same as 
that given in our text. 

One had asked our Lord, "Are there few that be saved?" 
"Without satisfying his curiosity by a direct reply, he aimed to 
impress those around him, with the far less importance of 
knowing how many others would be saved, than of knowing 
how they themselves might be saved. He said unto them, 
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto 
you, shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able." 

To all who view themselves as still going in the broad way 
to destruction, it is a question of deepest interest — how shall 
they escape that way, and enter the path of life? It is a 



ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN, ETC. 303 

question which any one must tremble to answer, were he not 
guided by the decisions of inspired truth. We consider the 
text as one of the plainest and most simple forms in which 
this great subject is presented in the sacred volume. It will 
not mislead us, for it is the direction of eternal mercy, of ever- 
lasting truth. 

My design is — 

First, To explain ; and 

Second, To enforce the exhortation. 

I. To explain it. 

By the strait gate, we are to understand the entrance into 
that way which leads to life ; and to enter in at the strait gate 
denotes the commencement of holiness in the heart of man. 
The same thing is denoted by conversion — by making a new 
heart — by giving God the heart — by reconciliation to God — 
by repentance for sin — by faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. 
These are substantially one and the same thing, varying only 
as the particular object before the mind varies; and, therefore, 
either may be used with exact propriety, as they are in the 
Scriptures, to denote the commencement of holiness in the 
soul of man — and what, in our text, is represented under the 
figure of entering in at the strait gate. 

It may be remarked, that some expositors understand by 
the strait gate, the entrance into the heavenly city. Whether 
it be so or not, it makes no material difference in the nature 
of the duty enjoined. For it is only by repentance and faith, 
by the surrendering of the heart to God, and a life of holy 
obedience; i. e., by the vigorous use of the powers of the 
moral agent, that an entrance into that world can be obtained. 

The gate is said to be strait or difficult, on account of the 
difficulties of entering it. The expression is designed to show 
us, that to commence a religious course is difficult. The diffi- 
culty arises, not from the nature of religion, but from the de- 
pravity of the heart. Are we required to turn to God, to 
make to ourselves a new heart, to put off the old man, and to 
put on the new man — compliance is difficult, because the de- 



304 ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN 

mand finds the heart supremely set on the world. The world 
has governed the affections and formed the character. To 
hate at once what we have always loved, to renounce what we 
have always eagerly pursued, and what we are still pursuing 
with unabated attachment and ardor — to withdraw the whole 
man from objects of supreme affection — and thus, as it respects 
character, to demolish and annihilate the old man, and yield 
the whole man to the influence of objects for which we have 
hitherto had no affection, and under their transforming influ- 
ence assume a new character — to put on the new man, as it 
were by a creative act of our own — is truly difficult. 

~No truth has come home with more entire conviction than 
this, to the mind of every one, who has made the experiment, 
and learned by trial the strength of indwelling sin. The 
thoughts have so long flowed in one channel, and the affec- 
tions so long been riveted to the objects of earth — God, and 
Christ, and heaven have been so little thought of, have excited 
so few sensibilities, they are so removed by distance, so lost in 
obscurity ; and all this has become such a fixed state, such a 
habitude of the soul, that the moment the sinner attempts to 
bring himself under the transforming power of divine reali- 
ties, a wall of separation rises in his path, and he sees that 
much, much is to be broken off, broken through, resisted, and 
overcome, if he would enter the strait gate and narrow way 
which leads to life. If any one denies the difficulties of the 
work, we would ask him, at least, not to be too confident till 
he has tried it. 

Hence the text requires us to " strive to enter in at the strait 
gate." The word strive is one of the most significant terms 
used in the Bible to denote the highest possible exertion. 
The original word signifies literally to agonize. It implies 
the act of strenuous contest with the most powerful antagonist, 
and forcibly shows us in its connection that, to reach the 
crown of life, we must break and force our w T ay to it by a sort 
of holy desperation of effort. Or, to drop all metaphor, the 
sinner is required to summon all the powers of his soul to the 



AT THE STRAIT GATE. 305 

performance of his duty, and to put himself upon the utmost 
exertion, of which as a moral being he is capable, in the work 
of turning to God. His understanding, as the faculty by 
which he is qualified to see his duty ; his obligations and the 
objects of holy affection; his conscience, as that by which ob- 
ligation is felt, with all the sensibilities of the soul by which 
hope and fear and desire are felt ; his will or heart, as that by 
which he chooses and refuses, loves and hates, are all to be 
summoned to their appropriate office, and charged to perform 
their appropriate part in this great work, on pain of eternal 
death. 

1. The understanding must be duly employed. 

God has given man understanding, that he might perceive 
the nature of his duty and his obligations to perform it. He 
has presented them both in the light of heaven, and man is 
therefore bound to see and understand them both. But how 
shall the truths of God's revelation, the great realities, in view 
of which man must act if he act as God requires, bring their 
influence to bear on the soul, unless man turn his attention 
toward them, and by abstraction of thought from earthly 
objects, and by intent meditation on the powers of the world 
to come, he acquire some just views of. their nature and their 
importance ? Will God abandon his moral government, and 
cause truth to take effect on the mind that does not perceive 
that truth? Will he transform the subjects of his moral gov- 
ernment into machines, tarnish his glories and prostrate his 
throne, by becoming the mover of passive recipients of influ- 
ence, the superintendent of the laws of matter and motion ; or 
will he maintain his high supremacy as the governor of intel- 
ligent beings, and reign over subjects formed in his own im- 
age, according to the laws of such a jurisdiction ? But such a 
government cannot be administered without the intervention 
of truth or motives, and if truth and motives are to have any 
influence on man, they must be seen and thought of. They 
must enter the mind, and become objects of fixed contempla- 
tion. No matter with what clearness a man's dutv and obli- 

20 



306 ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN 

gations are set before him — no matter what objects are pre- 
sented as objects of affection; so long as the mind shuts its 
eye or turns it away, it is to no purpose that heaven is opened 
and hell uncovered. "With some steady inspection he must 
look in on the glories of the one, and downward on the horrors 
of the other, and, with wakeful eye and vigorous footstep, 
trace the way of life. This demands effort. All, then, that 
man as an intelligent being is capable of doing to obtain just 
views of his duty and of his obligations — just views of him- 
self, of God, of the Saviour, of all that truth which is designed 
to influence him as a moral being, must be done. "No one 
w T ho neglects to do this can be said to comply with the precept 
in the text. 

2. Conscience must perform its appropriate part in connec- 
tion with all the moral sensibilities of the soul. 

By this I intend that all that power or capacity in man by 
which he is qualified to feel his obligations, the motives to 
obedience, or, in a word, to feel the force of divine truth, must 
be yielded to the impression of the objects of feeling — i. e., the 
mind must take the impression. Every one knows that it is 
in the power of the mind to repress feeling — to restrain and 
check sensibility. In vain are the truths of God studied and 
understood as matters of cold speculation. A seared con- 
science and a hardened insensibility must render the clearest 
perceptions of truth wholly ineffectual. When the eye of the 
understanding, then, is fixed on the duties which the sinner 
owes to God, his conscience must also perform its office in feel- 
ing his obligations to perform what is required. Conscience 
must open the soul to the weight of obligation which lies on 
the sinner to obey his God ; he must bare his guilty bosom to 
the arrows of conviction, and let them strike and fasten and 
thrill in the conscience. He must come to this point as one 
from which he cannot retreat, and yield to the weight of his 
obligations, as that which, like the pressure of great moun- 
tains, he cannot shake off. It is for this very purpose that 
God has given man a conscience. Conscience, then, must per- 



AT THE STRAIT GATE. 307 

form the part for which it is given. It is a faculty of the soul 
without which man cannot act as a moral being. So of all 
the sensibilities of the mind to the objects which God presents 
to the mind that they may be felt. "Without the due exercise 
of these — without employing them for the great purpose of 
•feeling obligation to his God and his Saviour — feeling what 
God made the mind to feel — no one can be said to strive in 
the sense of the text. 

3. The will or the heart — that faculty of the soul by which 
man chooses and refuses, loves and hates — is also to be prop- 
erly exerted. 

Merely to perceive duty and to feel the obligation to per- 
form it, are not enough to constitute that striving which the 
text enjoins. This implies the utmost exertion of every faculty 
which has any concern with the great work to be done. To 
such an exertion the power of the soul to perform voluntary 
acts, to love and to choose, must then also be summoned. Since 
man is a complete moral agent, possessing all the powers of 
such an agent, no reason can. be assigned why any one faculty 
or power of the soul should not be required to perform its ap- 
propriate part in an act of duty, as well as another. Now, the 
heart is the whole moral man ; it determines the whole char- 
acter. The right exercise of the heart is the very substance 
and soul of duty. And by what prerogative is this faculty to 
be exempted from its appropriate exercise ? What plea is to 
be offered to excuse the heart of an intelligent, accountable 
being, as man is, from loving that God and Saviour when re- 
vealed to his clear apprehension ? What authority can put an 
interdict upon the heart, when the most distinct utterance that 
ever burst from the eternal throne on mortal ears is, "My son, 
give me thine heart." Unless the heart, then, be put to the 
act of yielding its affections, there cannot be that striving 
which the text demands. 

I will only add an example or two in further explanation. 

By a clear revelation from heaven God is presented to man 
as the great object of affection. Would you love that Being? 



308 ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN 

Bring your understanding to some distinct apprehension of his 
excellence — open your conscience to the full weight of your 
obligations, and summon the voluntary powers of the soul to 
the greatest possible effort, actually to fix your affections on 
that Being. And when you look, and still look, and see God 
as he is — see him, as it were, face to face — let the glories 
which enrapture all heaven touch your heart. 

Again, in the same revelation a Saviour from sin and hell 
is presented as an object of trust or confidence. Bring, then, 
your thoughts to a clear apprehension of the loveliness and all- 
sufficiency of that Saviour, welcome a full sense of your obli- 
gation to trust him, and of the guilt and the woes of a refusal, 
and while he throws wide the embrace of his mercy by an un- 
qualified act of affectionate confidence, commit that polluted 
soul, that guilty soul, to Jesus' everlasting arms. 

Again : the nature of sin, the character of the sinner, is 
plainly presented. The moral character of moral beings con- 
sists in the governing principle of action. Of these principles 
there are but two. The one is the principle of benevolence — 
good-will ; the other is the principle of selfishness. One the 
principle which formed the character of the man Christ Jesus 
— that perfect character — that model of all perfection — that 
most beautiful, lovely object that the created universe pre- 
sents to our admiration and our love. This is the principle 
which would bless the creation — that gives perfection in char- 
acter and blessedness to beings created in God's image. The 
other the principle of selfishness — a spirit that fixes on our 
own individual gratification, to the exclusion of all other good 
— a principle, of course, which in its very nature would sacri- 
fice God and all other good, to secure its own object — a prin- 
ciple which in this world is covered up, restrained and toler- 
ated. But uncover it — take off the mask and expose its true 
nature— and you see the most odious and revolting object in 
the universe. You see a principle which arms its subject 
against God, against man and against all good — the principle 
which in one form makes the robber and the assassin and the 



AT THE STRAIT GATE. 309 

cold-blooded incendiary; in another form the hero and the 
conqueror, desolating kingdoms, filling a world with widows 
and with orphans — which breaks human hearts, and covers 
the earth with human blood and human corpses, and triumphs 
in its own achievements — the very spirit that murdered the 
Son of God — the very spirit of infernals, and that will mutter 
blasphemies against God forever — aye, the very fire of the pit, 
that consumes under a sense of perpetual anguish. JSTow, this 
is sin — this the principle, the character of the sinner; your 
principle, your character, your heart, fellow-sinner. Would 
you repent? Look at yourself, think of yourself, with such a 
heart ; and in this view of yourself, abhor yourself, and with 
sorrow — with ingenuous sorrow — renounce all sin forever, and 
assume a new principle, a new character. Be in character 
like Christ. 

The same general directions respect every other duty which 
God requires of man. 

Such being the nature of that striving which is inculcated 
in the text, I proceed — 

II. To enforce the injunction. 

1. It is a command of God. 

I need not say that the duty is inculcated in the text. It is 
also inculcated in every other divine precept. Take, for ex- 
ample, the similar precept, "Enter in at the strait gate." 
Now, as no one can enter in at the strait gate without striving 
to do so — i. e., without the efforts and acts of a moral being — 
the command to enter in clearly implies all that is contained 
in the command to " strive to enter in." So also the com- 
mands to repent, to believe, to love, clearly imply what in the 
text is denominated striving. For no one can repent without 
striving to repent ; no one can believe without striving to be- 
lieve; no one can love without striving to love. The very 
thing commanded is action — a given exertion of the moral 
faculties of the soul. The duty, then, of striving to enter in 
at the strait gate is enforced by the full authority of every pre- 
cept of God. 



310 ON STRIVING- TO ENTER IN 

2. The command is perfectly reasonable. 

The requisition is, that man should do that, neither more 
nor less, which, as a moral being, he is qualified to do ; that 
he should put those moral faculties which God has given him 
upon their appropriate exertions ; in a word, that he summon 
all the faculties of his soul to the single point of doing as well 
as he can do. And, I ask, can such an exertion of either 
faculty of the soul be reasonably dispensed with? Ought not 
man to employ his understanding to learn his duty ? Ought 
he not so to exercise the faculty of conscience, that he shall 
feel the full weight of his obligations ; and ought not the will 
or heart to be so exerted as to choose and love what is right, 
as well as the understanding in seeing, and the conscience in 
feeling, what is right ? Mark, my brethren, the question is 
not, what man will do ; nor what, on account of his obstinacy, 
it is necessary for God to do for him. But it is, what ought 
man to do? Ought he to do his utmost — ought he to do all 
he can do ? Yes. It is the voice of reason, the voice of con- 
science, the voice of men and of angels, it is the voice of the 
God that made him, and that will judge him — he ought. 

3. It is only by compliance with the precept in the text, 
that man will perform his duty, and secure his salvation. 

" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for, I say unto you, 
many will seek to enter in, and shall not be able." This 
clearly implies that any thing short of striving will prove 
utterly ineffectual. All who shall seek the favor of God and 
eternal life without striving, i. e., seeh these blessings without 
that full, and vigorous, and appropriate exertion of all the 
moral faculties of the soul, must fail of final salvation. This 
is plain from the nature of the case. If duty is not seen, if 
obligation is not felt, if the will or heart does not comply, no 
obedience is, or can be rendered. The obedience which God 
requires is the result of intelligence, and of a sense of obliga- 
tion, and implies the homage of the heart. If, therefore, we 
suppose either the understanding, or conscience, or heart to 
fail in the performance of its appropriate part in any action, 



AT THE STRAIT GATE. 311 

no duty is performed. A blinded mind, a seared conscience, 
a hard, rebellious heart are, each and all, the just objects of 
God's abhorrence. It is through failure in some one or all of 
these respects, that so many seek salvation here, and will seek 
to be admitted into heaven hereafter, who will be finally 
thrust out by the awful sentence from the lips of the Judge : 
" I know you not, whence ye are ; depart from me, all ye 
workers of iniquity." 

On the other hand, the text clearly implies that they who 
do strive to enter in, shall be able. Indeed, to suppose that 
man should do his utmost to obey God, and yet not obey, and 
thus fail of salvation, were alike absurd and impious. Ab- 
surd, because it supposes that man ought to do more than he 
can do ; and impious, because it makes God a hard master, 
" reaping where he has not sowed, and gathering where he has 
not strewed." Besides, he who should e'xert himself to the 
utmost extent of his powers, would perform what God re- 
quires ; for his requisitions are exactly limited by the powers 
of man. " Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy 
heart, and mind, and soul, and strength." Here, you see, the 
very thing required is the moral energy of man, in the exer- 
cise of right affections toward God. If, then, we would obey 
God's commandments, and obtain eternal life — if we would 
not remain guilty of his whole law — if we would not live in 
constant rebellion against the Almighty, and in constant ex- 
posure to his wrath, we must bring all the powers and faculties 
of the soul to the single point of duty, and ply their utmost 
energies to its performance. 

4. I would further enforce the injunction, from the case of 
those who make no efforts to perform the duty, and the mcmner 
in which the divine Spirit converts the sinner. 

It is a momentous fact — a fact which, in one respect, even 
after all the displays of mercy in the work of redemption, 
saves this guilty world from the midnight of despair — that the 
Spirit of God renews the heart of man through the truth. 
" Of his own will begat he us with the word of truth." The 



312 ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN 

very object, and the only object, for which the Spirit strives 
with sinners, is to give truth its proper effect on the mind, the 
conscience, and the heart ; and the thing, and the only thing, 
which he does, in regeneration, is actually to secure this effect. 
But how? Does the Spirit of God give effect to truth, when 
that truth is un thought of; and when the sinner effectually 
shuts it away, alike from his understanding, and his con- 
science, and his heart ? Has such a thing ever been known 
or heard of, in all the earth, that God has converted a stupid 
sinner, continuing stupid? Is there one such on earth — one 
such among the redeemed in glory? Not one. Even the 
miraculous conversion of Saul of Tarsus, was not effected till 
he was an awakened, distressed sinner. Will God ever con- 
vert a sinner in this state ? Convert them, when treating the 
message of his grace with deliberate contempt and pointed 
scorn — when they suffer their thoughts to roam to all the trifles 
of earth and time, and never even compliment the message of 
eternal mercy" so much as to think of it? And even, when 
sounded in their ears by the voice of the living God, with all 
its terrors and all its grace, make less of it than of the whist- 
ling of the breeze ? Will the Spirit of God convert such sin- 
ners ? Nay more ; I ask, can he convert them ? No. It 
involves a contradiction in the very nature of things. A 
sinner love God, while he never thinks of God — a sinner be- 
lieve in the Saviour, while he does not think of a Saviour? 
The Spirit bring the sinner to do such things ? Never. I care 
not what else may be true of him, if he does not bring him- 
self to this very point, the actual surrender of his heart to 
God — he resists the Holy Ghost, and takes a most fearful step 
toward everlasting damnation. Elect or non-elect, while he 
sleeps in sin, God will not convert him. Elect or non-elect, so 
sure as there is a hell, he is the victim of its indignation and 
wrath, its tribulation and its anguish. 

On the contrary, let the sinner awake to the great concern 
of his salvation, and his case is not hopeless. Let the terrors 
of God, which he has thrown around the idol of his heart, 



AT THE STRAIT GATE. 313 

detach his affections from it — let him, under the pressure of 
his necessities, as a guilty, self-ruined sinner, bring himself to 
the point of complying with the terms of mercy — let him put 
his understanding to some just apprehension of God, and of 
the Saviour — let him open his conscience to the weight of his 
obligations — let him ply his heart with the exercise of holy 
affections — let him take it up as a concern now on hand, and 
put himself to it with the urgency of a present achievement, 
as that which may now be done, and which must be done, and 
may as well be done now as ever, as that which, if it cannot 
be done now, there is not a particle of reason to think it ever 
can be done — let him thus put himself, the whole man, to the 
point of duty ; and who shall say, that it will not be done ? 
" Perad venture God will give him repentance." Neither man 
nor angel can say, that in that same hour, or even moment, 
such a sinner will not become an heir of God, and a joint heir 
with Christ. 

REMARKS. 

1. This subject shows us that the sinner may become a 
Christian soon, and how he may do so. 

It is thought by many to be a question of some difficulty, 
" How shall I repent ?" or " How shall I believe ?" I answer, 
first, not by remaining ignorant of what is to be done, nor of the 
way to do it. Ignorance, mistake here, will be death. I answer 
again, not as some very erroneously imagine, by waiting for 
God to convert you. It is a very common mistake to sup- 
pose, that sinners are to take the attitude of passive recipients 
of grace , waiting for God to impart some gift, they know not 
what, but shall know when it comes ; and are, in the mean time, 
to look, and wish, and pray, till the blessing comes. Sad and 
fatal mistake. Keligion, whether it be called repentance, faith, 
a new heart or love to God, is action, mental, moral action. 
The sinner, to become the subject of either, must act it What 
the Holy Spirit does, is not to impart a gift merely to a pas- 
sive subject, a mere receiver, but to move a free moral agent 
Vol. I— 14 



3m on striving to enter in 

to act — to act as a moral agent. And can it be, that all 
the calls of mercy, and all the thunders of wrath which God 
sounds in the ears of sleeping gnilt, only say, " Sleep on ; and 
sleep away your hours of probation, waiting for the Holy 
Ghost to convert you ffl Oh, no, no, no, my hearers. The sin- 
ner must act, or the sinner must die. God will not repent for 
him, nor love for him, nor believe for him. He must awake 
and begin, and begin w T ith the earnestness of a dying im- 
mortal falling into damnation. God tells you in every com- 
mand of his authority and every entreaty of his love — and 
every voice that speaketh from heaven says, " Strive to enter 
in at the strait gate" — and every voice of truth on earth echoes 
the mandate. And now, if you will not do your duty in the 
way in which God has told you to do it, your case is hopeless. 
This is the way, and the only way, in which it ever was, 
or ever will be, or ever can be done. God can cause you to 
do it in no other way. This is the very thing which the Spirit 
of God strives to bring you to do. If you do not yield and 
act in this manner you resist the Holy Ghost. Bring, then, 
all your powers to the subject. Apprehend it ; take hold of 
it as it is. Have done with that idol of your heart. Resolve 
to take care of your never-dying soul. Put yourself to the 
point of renouncing sin — of fixing your heart on God — of com- 
mitting your soul with affectionate confidence to the Lord 
Jesus Christ. In this work suffer not your understanding, nor 
your conscience, nor your heart, to fail in its fit and proper 
exercise. Whatever you find to do — whatever your case re- 
quires of knowledge, of more knowledge — of feeling, of more 
feeling — of decision, of more decision — of the going forth of 
affection — whatever you find to do in these respects, do it. 
Do it ; because God tells you to do it. Do it ; because if you 
do it as well as you can do it, the work is done. Do it; be- 
cause there is no other way of doing it. Do it ; because 
though imperfection may mar every effort, yet in this way, by 
the grace of the Holy Spirit, you may become a child of God 
and an heir of glory. 






AT THE STRAIT GATE. 315 

2. We see what a fearful condemnation awaits the impeni- 
tent sinner. 

He is a complete moral agent — possessing all the powers of 
a moral agent — which qualify for the exalted service and 
exalted destiny of God's holy kingdom. This will be seen 
and understood — this will be felt, when he stands before God 
in judgment. It will be seen — it will be felt — that he was 
made in God's own image — made to live and act with God, 
amid the grandeurs of eternity — to be one with him in char- 
acter and blessedness forever ; and the inquiry will be, why 
have you not loved the all-perfect God ; why have you not 
acted up to the high design of your being ? Why, when the 
character of the all-perfect God was exhibited as an object of 
affection, why did you not love him % When invited by all 
the excellence and sufficiency of Jesus the Saviour, did you 
not trust in him ? You have loved the world and sin, and 
why did you not love the Judge on the throne? And what 
will he say ? Will he deny his moral agency ; will he say, I 
could not ; " I knew thee, that thou wert an hard master?" No ; 
he is now conscious of his power as a moral agent ; he knows 
that he ought to love God ; and the same consciousness felt — 
the same fact revealed in the light of the last day — will cover 
him with shame and confusion of face. But this is not all. It 
will then appear that the Spirit of God had often entered his 
heart when he read the Bible ; when he heard those thousand 
rumors ; when his friends warned ; when some providence 
admonished him ; when driven to his knees, in prayer, for 
mercy. But it will also appear that he never made one effort 
to give God his heart. He never did seriously and soberly 
labor to renounce sin and the world ; he never did strive to 
make a complete surrender of himself to God ; and thus he 
resisted and grieved the Holy Ghost, — thus, with the eyes of 
the assembled universe — the eyes of his omniscient Judge 
fixed upon him — his guilt will be uncovered, and his doom 
pronounced: "Take the improh'table servant, bind him hand 
and foot, and cast him into outer darkness. There shall be 



316 ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN, ETC. 

weeping and gnashing of teeth ;" and, as he sinks under the 
awful sentence, the assembled world will pronounce the solemn 
Amen. 

And now, my dear hearers, let me entreat and exhort those 
who have no hope in Christ to obey the exhortation in the 
text, " Strive to enter in at the strait gate." Remember, that 
whatever you do, unless you aim to yield to the claims of 
God, you are fatally resisting the Holy Ghost. Remember, 
that if you are ever converted by the Spirit of God, it will be 
when, in view of God's glories, you are striving to give your 
heart to him. Come, then, my hearers, and thus begin the 
work of your salvation. Begin now. Summon all your 
powers, and press them to the work of giving God your heart. 
If the first attempt fail, repeat it, and repeat it again and 
again, as often as it shall fail. When you go into your closet, 
there make the solemn attempt to commit your soul to Christ. 
If the attempt fails, repeat it with new and increased effort. 
On this — oh, on this — every thing depends. Yiew yourself in 
what light you will — as a moral agent, or as dependent on the 
grace of God — this, this is the way. If you sleep in sin, you 
are lost. If you try to give your heart to God, you may in 
fact do it. By all your eternal interests, then, I beseech you, 
if you would not abandon all hope of heaven — if you would 
not compel me to become as a swift witness against you, and 
this humble attempt to rouse you to your duty, deepen the 
accents of final vengeance, " strive to enter in at the strait 
gate." Bring your whole mind to the act of duty. Did I 
know that this was the last call of mercy — the last moment of 
your probation — still I woidd say, put yourself to the act of 
duty. And should your first effort fail, and you have another 
moment's respite, I would say, repeat that effort. And did I 
hear the noise of the coming judgment, and could I yet hope 
that a moment more might be given you, still I would say, 
repeat that effort, and repeat it till you can go to the judg- 
ment-seat, and say to the Judge of the quick and the dead, 
that you have done all you can do. 



XXIII. 

SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 

Eevelatiox xxii. IT. 
"And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." 

It is a striking instance of the goodness of God, that water, 
one of the most necessary and valuable gifts of his bounty, is 
so easily procured. And it is a no less striking instance of his 
grace that the blessings of salvation may be obtained with 
equal ease. 

There is no image under which the freeness of the great 
salvation, by Jesus Christ, is so often set before us by the in- 
spired writers, and none which could more forcibly exhibit 
the willingness with which it is bestowed. The text is one 
instance in which the offer is made under this metaphor : 
" Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." The 
declaration goes as far as plain common sense would naturally 
understand it to go. His meaning is, that whosoever you 
may be, pardon, peace, and eternal life are yours, if you are 
willing to accept them. " Whosoever will, let him take the 
water of life freely ;" or, as he declares in the preceding chap- 
ter, " I will give unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of 
the water of life freely." 

I design to show — 

First, What it is to be willing to accept of salvation ; and, 

Second, That the blessing will be freely given to all who 
are willing to accept it. 

I. What it is to be willing to accept of salvation. 

This point is important because it is frequently misunder- 



318 SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 

stood. To be willing ', in the sense of the text, is not merely 
to be willing to escape future misery. In this sense every 
child of Adam, in proportion as he realizes his exposure to 
suffering, is willing to escape it. 

If this were the condition, every sinner would be saved, for 
every sinner will sooner or later tremble at the wrath of God. 
It cannot, therefore, be this sort of willingness that is meant 
in the text. Nor can it be merely a willingness to be happy. 
~No person can take a serious look into eternity and not be 
willing to be eternally happy. This desire may exist, and yet 
be nothing more than a desire to enjoy the heaven of Moham- 
med — a heaven consisting of the pleasures of sin. This cannot 
be the sort of willingness to which salvation is promised. 

Something more than a desire to escape misery, and to ob- 
tain happiness, is implied in this willingness. It is this : the 
sinner must be willing to accept of the salvation of the gospel 
— to accept it as it is, not in some of its parts, but as a whole 
— not something else, but this very thing. ISTow, the distin- 
guishing features of the salvation of the gospel are, that it is 
salvation by grace ; salvation from sin ; salvation through 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. To be willing, therefore, to 
accept of salvation, is to be willing to be saved by grace. 
This implies the absolute and unqualified renunciation of our 
own righteousness, a deep conviction of our own depravity 
and guilt, and consequent desert of the wrath of God. ~No 
man can be willing to accept of salvation, as altogether of 
grace, who has a word to say about his good deeds, or his own 
efforts of any sort. All these must be abandoned as the 
ground of acceptance, and he must be willing that God should 
have all the glory of his salvation. 

He must be willing to accept of salvation from sin. This is 
a distinguishing feature of the salvation of the gospel. Christ 
came into the world to save his people from their sins — to save 
them not only from the wages of sin, but from its dominion. 
To be willing to accept of his salvation, therefore, implies a 
desire to be delivered from the dominion of sin. It implies a 



SALTATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 319 

hatred of sin for its own sake, and a desire after holiness for 
its own sake ; it implies a willingness to part with all for the 
sake of conformity to the divine image ; it implies that state 
of the heart which chooses God and Christ and heaven as the 
portion of the soul ; which delights in the divine law, and in 
the way of salvation in all its parts ; which submits cheerfully 
to the humbling doctrines and self-denying precepts of the 
gospel ; which desires the service of Christ because it is a 
holy service; the happiness of heaven, because it is a holy 
happiness. In a word, to be willing to be saved, in the sense 
of the text, is to be willing to be all, and to do all, that the 
gospel requires of those who partake in its salvation. 

I proceed to show — 

II. That the salvation of the gospel will be freely given to 
every one who will accept it. 

I design so to treat this part of our subject so as not only to 
establish the truth, but to obviate objections. 

1. There is no obstacle in the way of bestowing salvation 
on such sinners, on the part of God. 

By sin all mankind had become deserving of the penalty 
of God's law, and had no way to escape the extremity of his 
justice. "Whatever might havts been our speculations, our 
hopes, our pleadings, there would be nothing more before us 
but the righteous vengeance of God. But there was one in 
heaven able to make atonement — a full, perfect, all-sufficient 
atonement for the sins of men. He was willing to make it. 
He has actually made it. The Son of God has died on the 
cross. He is a propitiation for the sins of the whole world. 
Thus the gate of heaven is thrown open to guilty men. Par- 
don and eternal life are offered to all through the blood of 
Christ. There is nothing on the part of God now to prevent 
him from giving this salvation to every one of Adam's race, 
who is willing to accept it, view the subject in what light you 
please. Did the justice of God prevent ? God can now be 
just and the justifier of the ungodly. Did the law of God 
prevent ? That law is magnified and made honorable by the 



320 SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 

very act of pardon. Did the truth of God f Mercy and truth 
have met together on the cross of Jesus. Did guilt, inherent 
depravity, turn away the face of God's holiness from the sin- 
ner ? He may be " washed and justified and sanctified in the 
name of the Lord Jesus, aud by the Spirit of our God." Search 
and scrutinize every severe attribute of the Godhead — scruti- 
nize his purposes. Look over the interests of his vast kingdom, 
there is nothing, nothing, to prevent the benevolence of God 
from flowing forth in its largest, richest gifts of grace and sal- 
vation to the sinner, who is willing to receive them. 

2. There is no obstacle on the part of sinners themselves. 

The want of regeneration, or a change of heart, is no obsta- 
cle. This willing mind is the change of heart itself. The 
want of conviction, of distress for sin, is no obstacle. He who 
has had conviction and distress enough to accept the Lord Jesus 
Christ as his Saviour, has had enough to answer the great end 
of conviction. The greatness of the sinner's guilt is no obsta- 
cle. It is as easy, just as easy to save the great sinner as the 
little sinner. No sinner is, nor can he be saved, for what he 
is or for what he is not, for what he has done or for what he 
has not done. He is and must be saved, solely on account of 
what Christ has done, through the merits of his blood. And 
that blood clean seth from all sin. No crime is so deep, no 
guilt so black, that the blood of Jesus cannot wash it all 
away. "Were all the guilt of the whole family of man em- 
bodied in a single heart, that blood could make it white as 
snow. No human guilt can mock the efficacy of Jesus's 
blood. 

Nor is there any obstacle on account of the number of sin- 
ners. The language of the Saviour is, " Look unto me and be 
ye saved, all ye ends of the earth." " He is a propitiation for 
our sins." " He gave himself a ransom for all." Not another 
drop of his precious blood need have been shed, not another 
pang need he have felt, that every one of our race, who has 
lived, and who shall live, might be freely pardoned and saved. 
There is room enough in heaven, and to snare. There is a 



SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 321 

crown of life for every one who is willing to wear it. There 
is a throne of glory for every one who is willing to sit on it. 

Nor is the want of reformation, or amendment, any obsta- 
cle. Although no sinner will be saved without reformation of 
life, yet no one will be saved on account of such reformation. 
Every sinner who becomes interested in the great salvation of 
the gospel will reform ; his reformation may be evidence that 
he is interested in it, but he does not become interested in it 
by reforming. This is not the price, that he should become 
better before he accepts of the offer. He need not say — I have 
nothing to give, as the price of this benefit ; my stock is too 
small to buy such an inheritance, and till it is better improved, 
it is in vain for me to expect the gift. No — these services — 
this sort of premium for the blessing of salvation is not wanted. 
It is utterly needless in this respect. Christ will never dispose 
of the blessing in this way. He need not be tempted by such 
offerings. He never will accept an offering that in the least 
degree takes the place of his atoning blood. Thatfs enough 
without them. 

Nor is there any inability on the part of such sinners which 
is an obstacle. It is often supposed by sinners, that they are- 
willing to accept, but are not able. But this is a sad mistake. 
What is it to accept, but to be willing to receive a gift, and 
why not as able to accept as to refuse an offered gift ? Noth- 
ing is fairly offered to any man, in whom something more is 
needful to his accepting it, than a willingness to accept it in 
view of its true nature. What should we think of a man who 
should offer his charity to a poor sufferer, who was famishing 
for the want of it, who had no hand to take it ; and is this the 
offer of salvation which the gospel makes? Is this the treat- 
ment of Christ toward sinners, for whom he died ? Does he hold 
out the blessings of his death to perishing immortals, and yet 
withdraw them from their willing acceptance? In all the over- 
tures of his mercy, and entreaties of his love, does the Lord 
Jesus Christ thus tantalize our wants, and mock our wretched> 
ness? Who dare say it? 

14* 21 



322 SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 

Is it here said : why tell us that the blessing is freely offered 
to him who is willing to accept it, when no sinner can be will- 
ing, without grace to make him willing ? I answer, first, be- 
cause he can be willing, and ought to be willing, and deserves 
to be damned, because he is not willing. And I answer far- 
ther, that although by his perverseness, he has rendered the 
grace of God necessary, he has no warrant to say, or think, 
that the want of grace is, or can be, the true and proper cause 
of his unwillingness. He grieves the Holy Ghost by his very 
unwillingness — he perversely struggles against and away from 
this highest and most powerful influence that the God of 
mercy can use — and shall he throw the blame on God ? But 
I have another thing to say. Peradventure God will give him 
repentance. Let him awake to sober consideration, let him 
make one honest effort, and put himself in earnest to this act 
of giving himself to Christ, and no voice of truth, in heaven 
or earth, can say he will not do it. Thus the path of the sin- 
ner's return to God's everlasting friendship is cleared of every 
obstacle. Heaven's gate is thrown open to the guiltiest, and 
the smile of God, who is love, invites acceptance of the great 
salvation. 

3. The sinner has nothing to give for the blessing. 

Not only would every thing be unnecessary, utterly useless, 
if he had it, but he has nothing. If, therefore, he receives this 
blessing, it must be freely given. The sinner has nothing to 
give for his salvation. He has broken the divine law in every 
instance of moral conduct, and he cannot mend it. Present 
obedience can only fulfill present obligation. "We might as 
well suppose that past obedience would atone for present sins, 
as that present obedience can atone for past trangression. But 
a child knows that present obedience can neither annihilate 
nor lessen the guilt of what is past. Present duty, though 
absolutely perfect, can do no more than answer for itself. 
Tell your creditor, that you will run no more into arrears, and 
will he give you a receipt in full for that ? Acceptance, there- 
fore, on the ground of law, of that law which requires us to 



SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 323 

"love the Lord our God with all our heart," which demands 
the universal and unceasing operation of this principle in 
every thought, word and action, must, with regard to every 
individual, be entirely and forever out of the question. The 
blot of a single sin, on a character as pure as that of an angel, 
would seal his condemnation. " Cursed is every one that con- 
tinueth not in all things which are written in the book of the 
law to do them." 

Beyond this, if the sinner has, or can have any thing to 
offer, as the price of his salvation, why is a Saviour provided? 
And if one sinner may obtain acceptance, all may — a world 
may — and why then has Jesus died ? Why, when the blessed 
Redeemer, the object of unmingled approbation and love, 
thrice prayed, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
me," why was he permitted to drink it, even to its bitterest 
dregs ? Was it for no purpose ? Was it because the Father 
delighted in the agonies of the Son ? Why, then, I ask, was it 
that Jesus bowed his head on the cross? Ah! my hearers, let 
the sinner look at that cross — let him consider well the price 
of salvation, and then say if he can pay it. 

Further, let it be told what the sinner can offer for his ac- 
ceptance. Can he offer his repentance ? While he is unwill- 
ing to accept of salvation, as a free gift, he has none to offer. 
His faith? While thus unwilling, he has no faith. His 
prayers ? But the " sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination 
to the Lord." His tears, his anxiety, his distress? "They 
that are in the flesh cannot please God ;" " The carnal mind is 
enmity against God." All its offerings, therefore, must be 
impure — whatever the sinner does with such a heart, must be 
offensive in the sight of God. He must still lie at the feet 
of uncovenanted mercy. Infinite purity cannot commune 
with pollution — no, not in a single instance. An enemy of 
God cannot commend himself to the favor of the Searcher of 
hearts by pretense and mockery. He still hates his God, and 
still deserves his wrath. He has a thousand times pierced the 
heart of redeeming love — he still does it ; and still deserves 



324: SALVATION FKEE TO THE WILLING. 

the wrath of the Lamb. The case is hopeless. He cannot 
give the least thing for his salvation. If given to him at all, 
it must be given freely. 

4. God is willing, even solicitous, that sinners should com- 
ply with the conditions of this salvation, that he may give 
them the blessing. 

Hear the voice of God, addressed to every sinner: "Oh! 
that they were wise, that they understood this, that they 
would consider their latter end;" a Oh! that thou hadst 
known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which 
belong unto thy peace ;" " Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye 
die ?" " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim, my heart is turned 
within me, my repentings are kindled together?" Now, is all 
this only a display of unreal feeling — delusive pathos on the 
part of God I God gives express and unequivocal assurances — 
he has revealed himself a God ready to pardon — he declares 
that he would have all men to be saved — that he is not willing 
that any should perish, but that all should come to the knowl- 
edge of the truth. And lest these assurances should not satisfy, 
he hath sworn by himself, saying : " As I live, saith the Lord, 
I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked." Is the living 
God a deceiver — is he perjured? 

The means which God uses for our salvation speak the same 
language. The remonstrances of conscience, the declarations 
of his word, the dispensations of his providence, the display 
of heavenly glories, the denunciation of endless misery, are so 
many barriers with which his mercy has guarded the passage 
to destruction. The transgressor must force them all before 
he can seize on death. At every step toward ruin, a voice is 
wafted to his ear, in the groans of damnation : "O come not 
to this place of torment." The voice of God is heard saying, 
""Why will ye die?" 

As decisive proof of this point, I will only point you to the 
work of redeeming love. Why did God redeem this world? 
Why this expense — why this mightiest miracle of God, this 
spectacle of wrath and mercy — why this joy in heaven, that 



SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 325 

makes all its pillars tremble — why these drops of blood in 
Gethsemane — why this soul of the Son of God exceeding sor- 
rowful, even unto death — why these arrows of the Almighty, 
the poison whereof drinketh np his spirit — why this prayer 
with his dying breath, for his murderers — why, the sounding 
of these bowels which still yearn over lost sinners — why these 
heavenly accents of entreaty still repeated — why this Holy 
Ghost now touching your hearts, and striving to melt them 
into submission ? Is there a sinner here willing to be saved, 
and God not willing to save him ? 

5. The direct promises of God settle the truth of our position. 

These, as contained in explicit declarations, and as blended 
with the tenderest invitations of mercy, abound in the inspired 
volume. " In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus 
stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto 
me and drink. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning 
and the end ; I will give to him that is athirst of the fountain 
of the water of life, freely. Ho, every one that thirsteth, 
come ye to the waters ; and he that hath no money, come ye, 
buy and eat — yea, come buy wine and milk, without money 
and without price. Wherefore do ye spend your money for 
that which is not bread, and your labor for that which satis- 
fieth not. Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which 
is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline 
your ear, and come unto me ; hear, and your soul shall live. 
And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that 
heareth say, Come, and let him that is athirst, come ; and who- 
soever will, let him take the water of life freely P 

REMARKS. 

1. How reasonable are the terms of salvation. 

Sinners are very apt to regard the terms of salvation as 
hard and difficult, and to persuade themselves, if it were not 
so, they certainly should comply with them. But what are 
these terms? They are, it is true, variously described in the 



326 SALTATION FREE TO THE WILLING. 

gospel ; but they are all contained in this whosoever will. A 
new heart, faith, repentance, love, are substantially but one 
and the same thing, and that is a willing mind. And, surely, 
there cannot be easier terms of obtaining a blessing than 
merely to be willing to accept it. What is there hard in this? 
What is the difficulty ? Is not " the way of transgressors 
hard?" Are not the "ways of wisdom pleasantness, and all 
her paths peace ?" Is it not more easy and more pleasant to 
submit to the living God than to rebel against him ? Is it not 
more easy and more delightful to tread the bright path to 
heaven than to stumble on in the dark way to perdition ? Is 
it not easier and more delightful to listen to the voice of God's 
authority, the invitations of redeeming grace, to be cheered 
with the visits of divine mercy — to be protected and upheld 
by the everlasting arms — to triumph over death — to rise to 
heaven, and wear a crown of immortal glory, than to break 
through calls, and warnings, and Sabbaths, and Bibles — the 
entreaties of men, and angels, and God, and Christ, to walk 
all the way to hell on the blood of Jesus, and to dwell there 
in the lake of fire, forever? What, then, so hard in being 
willing to do this. Where is the difficulty ? Let this matter, 
my hearers, be fairly tried at the bar of conscience. Where 
and what is the difficulty ? What terms, if it were left with 
you to settle, would you prefer? On what terms would you 
accept of salvation ? Would you undertake a tedious pil- 
grimage — would you consent to suffer, by sickness or by tor- 
ture, for a season — would you pay a farthing for the blessing ? 
It is yours on easier terms — it is yours for accepting it. What 
more can be asked ? Here in the name, and by the authority 
of the living God — here in this book is my commission — I 
offer you eternal life. Will you accept it ? Take it, take it 
freely ; it is yours. The God of truth has said it ; and, fellow- 
sinner, can you complain now that this is hard ? 

2. We see how absurd it is for sinners to attempt to obtain 
the salvation of the gospel, in any way, except by becoming 
willing to accept it. 



SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING-. 327 

It is a very common mistake of such persons, that they 
must begin with a course of awakening and conviction, and 
go through with a process of anxiety and distress for days and 
weeks, perhaps months, before they can even think of becom- 
ing interested in this salvation. Now, in answer to all this, 
the gospel declares that this salvation will be freely given to 
those who, knowing what it is, are willing to receive it. And 
that it will be given to no other. The great thing, and the 
only thing, is to be willing. All that thinking and feeling 
which is necessary to, and involved in becoming willing is, 
of course, to be done. I'll tell you, fellow-sinner, what you 
must do. You must have a just apprehension of this salva- 
tion, and then be willing to accept it. This you must do, or 
die. Say not this is hard. It is reasonable — it is right that it 
should be hard. "There is no peace," saith God, "to the 
wicked," and there ought to be none. What more or what 
else can be said, when the terms are as low as they can be — 
when salvation is urged upon your acceptance in every way, 
and by every possible motive, and you will not accept it — 
when you had rather die than take it freely, what more can 
be said, than that die you will, die you must, and die you 
ought. God, and angels, and men, and devils, and your own 
conscience say, and will say to all eternity, Amen; it is right. 

And, now, my dear hearers, what is your purpose to-day ? 
Yes, to-day ; for to-morrow may be too late. The salvation of 
the gospel is a free salvation. To him that is willing to re- 
ceive it, it shall be freely given. It has been bought by the 
sacrifice of God's beloved Son, and it is offered to all. It shall 
be given to all who will accept it. Salvation for sinners, sal- 
vation from endless woe, salvation from sin, salvation with 
eternal glory. It is brought to each of you. It is no false, 
delusive offer. The very Saviour who died for you makes it — 
it is urged upon your acceptance. That you may accept it, 
this Sabbath shines upon you; that you may accept it, this 
sanctuary has again opened its doors. A present God is here 
to meet you with the gift. Jesus, with the same love and 



328 SALTATION FREE TO THE WILLINQ. 

pity that brought him from heaven to die for you, entreats 
you to take it. Saints lift their souls to God in earnest long- 
ings for you. Angels have stopped their songs, and tremble 
with holy impatience, to witness your decision. Hell itself 
is moved with anxiety, while the treasures of eternal glory are 
laid at your feet. And now, while the Father thus holds out 
the scepter of forgiveness, and Jesus, by all his groans, and 
agonies, and blood, entreats you to accept the offer; and the 
eyes of all heaven and hell are fixed upon you — how solemn 
the moment — how tremendous your decision! Come, then, 
and accept the offered blessing, come and be willing to accept 
it. Come, just as you are, poor, polluted, vile as you are. 
Test the sincerity of the Saviour, who died for you. There is 
no mistake here. Take eternal life, take it without offering, 
or thinking to offer the least price for it. Reject the thought, 
for the blood of Christ hath purchased it already. Take it, 
therefore, if you will j you do nothing but abuse his mercy, 
and provoke his patience till you do this. Take, then, the gift. 
I take you to record, my dear hearers, before God again, 
that the offer of eternal life has been repeated to you ; you 
see clearly that it is freely offered ; and now if you reject it, 
remember that you have again slighted an offered Jesus. Re- 
member it when you rise from your seat ; remember it when 
you pass the threshold of that door ; remember it when you 
enter your dwelling ; remember it when you lie down to rest 
at night ; remember it when you rise in the morning ; remember 
it when employed in the business of the week. Remember 
when the voice of eternal truth said, " Whosoever will, let him 
take the water of life freely," you replied, I will not take it. 



XXIV. 

THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

2 COEINTHIANS iv. 3. 

il But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost." 

There is one fact of which, notwithstanding onr familiarity 
with it, we cannot think without wonder, that a being so 
great as God — a Saviour so full of mercy as his Son — realities 
so momentous as heaven and hell, should be presented in the 
light of divine revelation, and yet by men whose every in- 
terest they involve, should, to every practical purpose, be 
overlooked and unseen. Still more wonderful is this fact, 
when we reflect that the things of the gospel are presented to 
no mind without producing at least a measure of conviction of 
their truth and reality. Strange, however, as it appears, this 
revelation itself declares the fact and unfolds its solution. 
" Light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather 
than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one 
that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, 
lest his deeds should be reproved." Sin has put a covering of 
thick darkness on the mind, and thus maintains its gloomy and 
obstinate resistance to the very gospel of God. 

It may be remarked, generally, concerning those to whom 
the gospel is hid in the sense of the text, that they live under 
its external light, and have, as all such persons do have, at 
least some secret convictions of its truth. The apostle is not 
speaking of those to whom the gospel has never been sent. In 
the context he asserts the zeal and fidelity of himself and of 
his fellow-laborers in preaching that gospel. " Not walking," 



330 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

says he, " in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceit- 
fully; but by manifestation of the truth, commending our- 
selves to every man's conscience in the sight of God ;" and 
then adds, " but if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are 
lost" — who are perishing — who are under those influences 
which lead to perdition. In the original, they are those who 
cure perishing — in a state in which the process of destruction 
is begun. The causes of perdition are in full operation, and 
the work of their perdition is begun already and going on. 
They to whom the gospel comes in such circumstances, and 
who refuse to enter into the spirit and design of it, are in a 
state most fearfully dangerous. So abundant, so overwhelm- 
ing is the light which is shed from the gospel wherever it 
comes, that none can be in darkness for want of the medium 
of vision. Kay, so irresistible is that gospel in its efficacy, 
that it does infallibly secure for itself and those who preach 
it the approbation of every man's conscience. After all, it is 
quite another thing to perceive the truths of the gospel in their 
true nature ; quite another thing so to perceive the spiritual 
truths of the sacred record of God, that they shall come home 
to every feeling of the man with full effect. If to those to 
whom the gospel is sent — to those who are surrounded by its 
light, and who, in their consciences, whatever they may pro- 
fess with their lips, are forced to acknowledge its truths — if 
to them that gospel be hid — if they are blind to that gospel in 
its practical bearing — blind to its truths in their nature and 
excellency, and weight, and glory — if they never see the things 
revealed as they are — if they never enter that region of light 
where the objects of faith are invested with the bright color- 
ing and controlling aspect of realities — and where these objects 
bring to the mind and the heart their true and appropriate 
influence — they are in a state which fearfully forebodes final 
perdition. 

My design is to show — 

First, To whom the gospel is hid. 

Second, The danger of their condition. 



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 331 

I. The gospel is hid to those who deny its divine authority. 

1. No man to whom the manifestation of the truth has been 
made, has ever been able, to the satisfaction of his own mind, 
to disprove the Bible. Many, indeed, have ventured on an 
open professed denial of its authority. But to the strongest 
convictions and boldest asseverations of its falsehood, has still 
adhered the misgiving, harassing suspicion — this may be 
the truth of God ; these may be the only overtures of recon- 
ciliation from an offended God, the very language of the 
supreme Lawgiver and final Judge of men. The dying horrors 
of such men as Yoltaire and Paine are decisive on this point. 
Such men have rendered no trivial homage to the gospel by 
anticipations of its doom in that honest hour. The darkness 
of the infidel, then, is not that which consists in the want of 
external light, nor yet that which results from the want of an 
inward conviction that the gospel is true. That light pene- 
trates even his benighted mind, and in an honest hour extorts, 
in open confession, the homage which his conscience always 
secretly renders to the truth of the gospel. Yet there is a 
sense most clearly in which the gospel is hid to the infidel. 
For example, has he any of , those views or perceptions of the 
Lord Jesus Christ which his gospel claims? Has he who 
plans a war of extermination against Christianity and its 
Author — who summons his hosts to the onset, by the watch- 
word, " Crush the wretch" — has he formed any just views of 
the revealed character of the Son of God? Has he ever 
caught even a glimpse of the glory of him whom saints and 
angels adore? Over this scene of manifestation his eye hath 
never passed. To all the loveliness of the Saviour ; to all the 
beauty of his precepts; to all the moral power of his doctrines, 
he is as practically blind as had no revelation been made. 

2. The gospel is hid to those who are ignorant of its pecu- 
liar doctrines. 

Almost every man has formed for himself some scheme of 
religion, imagined some terms of acceptance with God, but 
which in most cases are not derived from the gospel, and are 



332 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

as unlike what is there revealed as are the lessons of the 
Alkoran. They have formed such inadequate views of their 
own character as sinners — of the character and law of God, 
and of the relations which they sustain to him — have adopted 
principles of moral reasoning so opposite to the truth, which 
have become so inwrought into all their conceptions by habit, 
that they cannot renounce them — that when the peculiar doc- 
trines of the gospel are presented, and come to be tried by 
their preconceived opinions and modes of thought, these doc- 
trines appear dark and mysterious, or absurd and self-contra- 
dictory. There is no previous preparation of mind to discern 
the truth and bearing of the peculiarities of the gospel ; there 
is in their notions and principles no adjustment, but direct 
contrariety to the truth as it is in Jesus ; and of course all the 
avenues, both of the understanding and the heart, are shut 
and barred against it. Let the faithful preacher of the gospel 
tell such a man that the gospel pronounces him an enemy of 
God, and builds its whole superstructure of doctrine and pre- 
cept on the existence of such a controversy between man and 
his Maker ; let the necessity of pardon through the blood of 
the appointed Mediator, the necessity of regeneration by the 
Spirit of God, and other distinguishing truths of the gospel be 
insisted on ; and all this is so directly opposed to his precon- 
ceived opinions, that he cannot understand, he cannot receive 
it. God he does not hate, he has squared his conduct to the 
strict rules of morality ; a mediator he does not need, or at least 
only partially. In a word, so totally inadequate and false are 
his notions, that the whole gospel sounds as strangely and as 
obscurely as if it were preached in an unknown tongue. Such 
men are intellectually blind ; blind to the whole scope and 
character of Christianity. And, although the truth may at 
times flash plainly and powerfully into this midnight of error, 
yet it there meets with fatal repulsion from the heart, and the 
cloud of darkness settles on the mind in all its blackness. To 
every such person " the gospel is hid." From the ignorance 
of his understanding moral darkness is inseparable. And let 



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 333 

him be told that to those spiritual perceptions of Christian 
truth which secure its practical ascendency, he is as really a 
stranger as the most benighted heathen. 

3. The gospel is hid to all those who do not obey it, how- 
ever extensive and correct may be their views of its doctrines. 

In every congregation, we find persons who are well taught 
in the great truths of the gospel, but who, after all, derive 
from them no true and appropriate influence. Indeed, it is 
impossible to assign the limit to which the acquisition of re- 
ligious knowledge, in its speculative views, may be carried, 
and yet the gospel be hid in the midst of these high attain- 
ments. A man may not only know that the Bible is the book 
of God, and be spiritually blind to its contents ; but he may 
learn the number of chapters and verses — may be minutely 
acquainted with its facts- — may compare Scripture with Scrip- 
ture; nay, may understand its doctrines and precepts — be able 
to demonstrate its truths with the power, acuteness, and learn- 
ing of the most accomplished theologian — all this, and more 
may be true of him ; and still he may know only the letter, 
and absolutely nothing of the spirit of the gospel. He may 
still carry in his bosom a heart untouched by a single truth 
which that gospel — which he knows so well — has revealed. 
He may still be unshaken from any one attachment to the 
world, and an utter stranger to the power of those divine 
truths, which give to him that feels them the high character 
of a co-worker with God. JNor is this mere hypothesis. It is 
what occurs within our constant observation. How common 
is it to find, for example, persons who admit the being and 
perfection of an omnipresent God, and yet live in all the sin- 
ful stupidity and unconcern of habitual darkness ! The light 
which beams from the objects of sense and sight completely 
overpowers the light that beams from this object of faith. 
The world, and the world only is seen ; and though God may 
be occasionally thought of, and his presence and attributes be 
confessed, yet the trifles and vanities of the world are enough 
to exclude, in every practical respect, the very thought of a 



334 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

present Deity. The man thinks, and reasons, and feels, and 
acts, just as he would do had no ray of light from the eternal 
throne ever reached him. The broad daylight of the world 
obscures and hides every just view of God, and excludes every 
right conception of that awful majesty and glory that sur- 
rounds him in full manifestation at every step. 

To illustrate in another example. Here is a man who ad- 
mits into his creed without hesitation, and with the clear dis- 
criminations of the soundest orthodoxy, all which the Scrip- 
tures affirm of himself, of the law of God, of its precepts and 
its curse — all that is said of the character and work of Christ, 
and of the world to come. But to the power of all this truth 
he is dead ; no trace of its efficacy can be found in his heart, 
or in his life. It is only to the power of this world's interests 
and pleasures that he is alive. He has never been humbled 
as a sinner — never trembled at the deserved, acknowledged, 
and approaching curse of the Almighty — never derived from 
all that lie has seen a feeling impression that he needs a 
Saviour. Is not some manifestation of truth, which he has 
never had, necessary in his case to secure to that truth its prac- 
tical energy on the man ? Has not the obedient believer had 
some revelation which he has not had ; and must there not be 
a revelation to him — I do not say of new truths, of things not 
clearly advanced in the written record — but a revelation that 
shall throw over these truths the character of realities ; must 
there not be some perception of these things as realities, of 
their real nature and relation to him, of their weight and 
glory, that shall enable him to withstand the commanding in- 
fluence of the things of sight and sense ? Most unquestion- 
ably. He who dies to the world, and lives to God, must live 
under that peculiar manifestation of divine things by which 
they become visible to the mind, and are brought home with 
their appropriate energy on the heart. Where the latter is 
wanting, the former is. "Where the effect is not, the cause is 
not. In this high and important respect, therefore, the gospel 
is hid to all who do not obey it. 



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 335 

Having thus shown to whom the gospel is hid, I proceed, to 
show — 

II. The danger of their condition. 

This will appear, if we consider — 

1. That the blindness of those to whom the gospel is hid, 
is voluntary and criminal. 

It cannot be ascribed to the want of light. There is not a 
single truth in the Bible seen by him whose understanding is 
opened to understand the Scriptures, which may not be seen 
by them whose minds are " alienated from God through the 
the ignorance that is in them." The word of God is ever the 
same. The difference is : one sees these things as they are, 
the other does not. The question is, why does he not? And 
the answer is, because " he hateth the light, neither cometh 
to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved." Why, in the 
language of an apostle, is the "understanding darkened?" — 
why are men thus " alienated from the life of God, through 
the ignorance that is in them?" Because, as he tells us, " of 
the blindness of the heart." The appeal to common sense and 
common experience is equally decisive. Why is it that men 
contrive so absolutely to exclude God from their thoughts, and 
remain as free from every impression of God, and every affec- 
tionate regard for him, as were there no God ? They hide the 
glory of that Being who is present in all the scenes of earth, 
and in all the paths and abodes of men, behind the shadows 
and visions of this material world. And why is this, except 
they choose to do so? What but the want of a willing mind, 
a heart to welcome and desire the divine presence, prevents 
any one from marking the footsteps of God wherever he goes, 
and living under a continual sense of his presence ? Nothing. 
It is voluntary blindness. The same remarks substantially 
apply to every truth of the gospel. If any thing approach- 
ing a right conception of its truths enters a sinner's mind, his 
preference for the world drives it all away from him. To 
him the Saviour " hath no form nor comeliness." The faintest 
glimpse of the sun of righteousness awakens disgust, and he 



336 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

turns away his eyes, or shuts them on his meridian splendors. 
The blinded sinner, therefore, is in danger of perdition, because 
he deserves it. 

2. His danger is increased by the measure of light and evi- 
dence which he resists. " This is the condemnation, that light 
is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than 
light, because their deeds were evil." In proportion to the 
light is the guilt of him that rejects it. And such an aug- 
mentation of guilt does the light of the gospel, when hated by 
the carnal heart, bring with it, that Christ declares that the 
Jews without his instructions had not had sin. The gospel is 
light. It sets before us the things that belong to our peace as 
they are. It carries with it evidence of its truth, which no 
honest mind can resist. It discovers to us in the beaming 
effulgence of mid-day, the glories of God, the beauties of holi- 
ness, the evil of sin, and the amazing interests of eternity. It 
unfolds to our own inspection the recesses of our hearts, the 
duties we owe to God and man ; it sheds the luster of noon on 
the path of life, and brings into full view the Saviour of sin- 
ners. And what is the eifect ? Men love darkness rather than 
light ; they hate the light. What can more aggravate guilt, 
and augment danger, than thus to contemn and hate a revealed 
God and Saviour? What malignity of sin, what a dark and 
settled depravity must that be which can thus maintain its 
dominion, amid the realities disclosed by this light from 
heaven ? What a mighty influence has the God of this world 
over the mind of that man, whom he thus holds in allegiance, 
when the majesty and glory of the Eternal stand in visible 
array before him ! What a fearful prelude to everlasting per- 
dition is such a state of mind as this ! 

3. No other means will be used for his salvation but those 
which have been tried and proved ineffectual. Unless that 
gospel which is hid from the sinner — unless that gospel, from 
whose truths he derives no salutary impression, become the 
power of God to his salvation, nothing can. A new gospel 
will not be given. Here God has revealed the only overtures 



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 337 

of mercy, here he has fixed the terms of salvation, and here 
he has presented that truth, which only can bring the sinner 
to comply. But this gospel — this truth is hid ; not hid as a 
matter of speculation — not hid by an honest conviction that it 
is false, but while acknowledged to be true, and in many in- 
stances understood in theory — hid in its practical energy — hid 
as a revelation of realities which are designed to affect human 
feeling and human action ! — hid, therefore, to them that are 
lost ! Of whom is there not hope if there is of such persons ! 
They believe the truth, and yet they do not believe it. They 
see it, and yet do not see it ; they believe and see it in every 
sense except that which gives it its practical power. In this 
they believe nothing — see nothing. The truth is perceived by 
the understanding, and has commended itself to the conscience, 
but the blindness of the heart still maintains its gloomy and 
obstinate resistance. They believe it in every sense which can 
create responsibility, enhance guilt, and secure perdition, and 
that is all. Amid the revealed perfections and glories of God, 
the fullness and excellency of Christ, and all that gives to eter- 
nity its importance, there is no practical reality but the world. 
To all the truths which spread transport through heaven, and 
terror through hell, there is indeed a frank acknowledgment, 
but an utter blindness and insensibility. And, I ask, if they 
are thus blind to truth ; if they can confess the majesty and 
glory of God, when presented in visible manifestation before 
them ; if they can see and acknowledge that the claims of their 
Redeemer are brought to them by the actual presence of their 
Redeemer, and yet remain blind to the perception of the 
reality ; if they can admit that heaven and hell are opened 
before them, that death is at hand, their final Judge at the 
door, and yet slumber on ; if all the appointed means of im- 
pression are thus counteracted, and nothing new will be fur- 
nished — I ask, if such men are not outcasts of condemnation ? 
I ask, if such fearful results alone are realized on the soul from 
things like these, if that soul is not lost 1 

L Because in danger of being given up of God, to continued 
Vol. L— 15 22 



338 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

ignorance and error. That there are those who are lost in this 
higher sense, the Scriptures leave no room to doubt. "Who 
were those who excited the exclamation of the compassionate 
Saviour — " If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this 
thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! but now 
they are hid from thine eyes ?" Who are those to whom God 
will send " strong delusions that they should believe a lie," 
but they who " received not the love of the truth ?" 

And now, in conclusion, permit me to express to you the 
painful conviction, that the gospel which we preach is hid 
from many of you. The point to be settled is not merely 
whether any of you are open and avowed infidels ; if that be 
your character, there is no question remaining whether the 
gospel in every practical sense be hid to you ; nor is it merely 
whether through the influence of preconceived opinions, you 
do not understand and receive the great and distinguishing 
doctrines of Christianity; in this case one point is equally 
plain — to you the gospel is hid. But you may not only believe 
the gospel you may have embraced the exactest orthodoxy, 
you may welcome the preacher who deals in the plain and 
just exhibitions of God's truth, you may admire the power of 
his eloquence, you may allow the truth of all that he says, and 
yield to his discourses a solemn and deep attention, a moment- 
ary conviction may flash the truth he utters upon the mind, 
and carry a thrilling influence to the conscience, — but, my 
hearers, there is still a question between you and your God — 
what is the effect on your heart ? Do the objects presented 
by his gospel, fix and settle on your spirit with the substance 
and weight of realities ? Are you doers of the word as well 
as hearers ? You believe the gospel of God, but where is the 
fruit of your faith ? "Where and how do appear the effects 
of that gospel, seen and felt in all the energies of its moment- 
ous truths ? Alas, my hearers, when we come to you, and 
look around upon you, Sabbath after Sabbath, and after all 
the respect you show by your attendance and your attention, 
we are constrained to regard the great majority of you as list- 



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 339 

less and unconcerned about the things of eternity, as obsti- 
nately alienated from God, as firmly devoted to the world, your 
farm, your money and your merchandise ; after all our ser- 
mons and addresses, all the light from heaven that beams upon 
you, we find the power of darkness still upon you, we find 
your spirit as firmly locked in the dark and gloomy prison- 
hold of sin, as ever ; we find you knowing enough, and believ- 
ing enough, to strip you of all excuse to augment the measure 
of your guilt, and to sink you to the lowest pit of damnation ! 
And if there is one on whom we look with emotions of pity 
and distress which we cannot utter, it is upon that man who 
is adorned with all the amiable decencies of worldly morality, 
is receiving the everlasting gospel as eternal truth, reading, 
learning its instructions, and treasuring them up in his intel- 
lect, and is yet carrying in his bosom a heart unmoved by its 
influence, uncheered by its consolations, unshaken from his 
sordid attachment to earth, and dead to those truths whose 
ennobling, sanctifying power would make him a fit companion 
of his God ! This is the man on whom the full experiment of 
the appointed means of salvation has been made to no pur- 
pose ; this is the man who assumes the unchristian attitude of 
admitting all that God has said, and yet despises and braves 
it all in the acknowledged presence of his Maker and his 
Judge ; this is the man whose weekly accumulation of guilt 
we cannot compute, and whose fearful exposure to the aggra- 
vated doom of despising the acknowledged gospel of God we 
cannot conceive ; this is the man upon whom all that we can 
say, on the authority of the infinite God, has no more effect 
than the feeble lispings of infancy ; who well nigh fills us 
with discouragement and despair! And such, my dear hear- 
ers, are some of you. But we will not abandon you in despair. 
From that power of corruption and blindness that maintain 
their resistance to the light of salvation, we would learn with 
a deepened impression, that our sufficiency is not of ourselves, 
but of God; we would feel that another and higher power 
must be brought to act on this mass of resistance. In your 



340 THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST. 

behalf, and for the success of our ministry, we say to all who 
can plead for the covenanted grace of God, " Brethren, pray 
for us ;" and pray " God, who commanded the light to shine 
out of darkness, shine into your hearts, to give you the light 
of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus 
Christ." 

And now what must you do? I answer, one thing you 
must not do. You must not so engross the mind, thought, 
sensibility, feeling, affection, hope, desire — the whole man — 
with this world and the things of it. Go on doing this, and 
you can never see the objects of the gospel — the objects of 
holy affection, as you must see them. Go on doing this, and 
you can never comply with the terms of life. Go on doing 
this, yielding thought, feeling, and affection to earth and to 
vanities, and you will live in the veriest midnight, even amid 
the splendors of the light of life. Go on doing this, and you 
die. What, then, must you do? You must give the mind to 
some sober contemplation of the things of God's revelation. 
Give yourself to that solemn pondering of these things, till 
your convictions of truth shall give reality to truth, till it shall 
take hold of sensibility, and prompt to action. Think of God, 
and love him. Think of sin — hate and renounce it. Think 
of the Saviour, and trust yonr soul to his mercy. Think of 
discipleship to Christ, of the character, the duties, the hopes, 
the prospects of a Christian — and be a Christian. 



XXV. 

THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

Luke xviii. 10. 

u Two men went up into the temple to pray ; the one a Pharisee and the other 
a publican." 

It would seem, that if men would ever form a just estimate 
of their own character, it would be when standing in the ac- 
knowledged presence of God. So erroneous, however, is the 
standard by which multitudes judge of themselves — so prone 
and so accustomed are they to think better of themselves than 
they ought to think — that they can carry their equivocation 
and concealment to the very throne of Omniscience. Nor do I 
know that we ought much to wonder, if men who have never 
compared themselves with the spiritual requisitions of the 
law of God, and who, in its stead, substitute as a standard the 
average moral character of the world around them, approach 
the very mercy-seat of God in the attitude of proud self-suffici- 
ency. 

The gates of this sanctuary have been again opened for the 
admission of those who choose to enter its courts. The foot 
of the hypocrite did not stumble as he passed the sacred 
threshold, nor is the tongue of the profane and the haughty 
sinner withered in the midst of these devotions. To the eye 
of human inspection the incense of our prayers and praises has 
seemed to mingle and to rise with acceptance before the ob- 
ject of our worship. But there is an eye which has pene- 
trated every disguise and searched every heart. God knows 
the heart of every professed worshiper in his presence, and 



342 THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

doubtless sees in each substantially the spirit of the Pharisee 
or the spirit of the publican. It may help us to know our- 
selves, to consider particularly the spirit and character ascribed 
to these two men. 

The Pharisee, as the parable describes him, "stood and 
prayed thus with himself." The pride and self-exaltation of 
this man appear in the very posture he assumes. " He stood 
and prayed." Mere posture, indeed, can have no influence in 
itself, to render our supplications more or less acceptable to 
God. Still, circumstances may be such that the posture shall 
strikingly evince the temper of the heart. The posture of 
standing, for example, as in this case, may evince a spirit of 
high self-complacency, and a desire to be seen of men, and to 
be noted for great sanctity in devotion. So, too, the posture 
of kneeling in other circumstances, may just as plainly be- 
speak the same spirit. Still many a sinner to whom it has 
been proposed to Jcneel with others in the act of supplication 
has found, and doubtless many, were it proposed to them to 
enter their closets and assume this attitude of a suppliant, 
would find, that like the Pharisee, they have a heart too proud 
thus to bow the knee before the footstool of the Almighty. 
Each one can ascertain how the fact is in his own case, by 
making the experiment. 

The Pharisee " prayed with himself." The phrase denotes 
the inward thought of his mind, the secret estimation of him- 
self, made in an ostensible act of worship, and thus indicates 
that pride and self-complacency, which occupied his mind with 
himself, to the exclusion of the God whom he professed to 
worship. This state of mind is exhibited substantially by 
thousands, occupied with the conceit of their moral superiority 
to others, and who thus quieting the reproaches of conscience, 
can thank God with the same thoughtless flippancy of compli- 
ment, and the same self-congratulation. Now, it is not that 
they believe the grace, the unmerited grace of God, hath made 
them to differ ; it is not that God has shed abroad his love in 
their hearts when deserving his wrath ; it is not even that they 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 343 

discover by an enlightened spiritual discernment, real moral 
excellence of character in themselves, but it is simply that 
they are better than others — that compared with others they 
have whereof to glory. The question in such a case, is not 
whether they have in the lowest sense complied with the stand- 
ard of righteousness which God has given. It is simply a 
question of comparison ; and no matter how far below the true 
standard they may fall, if others fall below them, if there are 
others worse than they are, they still find cause for congratu- 
lating themselves, and thanking God. Miserable delusion! 
Who will ever acquire a knowledge of himself while he takes 
such a method to form the estimate? Who cannot find some 
one in the circle of his acquaintance, or at least some one in 
the world of perdition, worse than himself? And who can 
think that a spirit which boasts of such pre-eminence as this, 
is the spirit of a true worshiper of God ! Yet such was the 
spirit of the Pharisee ; such is the spirit of thousands who re- 
semble him. 

But let us trace still farther the workings of his mind. 
" God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortion- 
ers, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican." Now, how 
far was this true, and how far was it false ? And in deciding 
this question let us admit his own declaration in its full im- 
port. He was not an extortioner, nor unjust. He had not 
wrung from his debtors their hard earnings ; he had not taken 
advantage of their necessities ; he had not snatched the bread 
from the mouth of a famishing family, nor left the father to 
pine away in the cold damps of a prison. He had been con- 
tent with moderate profits ; he had been concerned in no usuri- 
ous contracts, no sly or crafty impositions, falsehoods, and 
frauds. He was surprisingly free from these external immor- 
alities which he had no temptation to be guilty of, and of this 
wondrous outside purity he comes to the temple of God to 
boast. 

He was not an adulterer. No, he has never been willing to 
run the risk of being stoned to death by the law of Moses, 



Z4A THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

for such a crime, and for this, too, he thanks God, and tri- 
umphs over others. The catalogue of virtues had now heen 
exhausted, had he not perchance discovered a poor publican 
who had also come up to the temple to pray ; when he adds, 
" or even as this publican." The publicans were a peculiarly 
odious class of men to the Jews, as the appointed collectors of 
the revenue exacted by the Roman government. Generally 
they were as iniquitous and oppressive as they were odious. 
Such, then, was the character of the Pharisee, and such his 
consolation, that he was not so bad as the lowest and most 
despised members of the community. 

And how common is a similar estimate ! What multitudes 
delude themselves and offend God by these partial estimates 
of their moral worth. How easy to glance over the darker, 
and fix with delight on the brighter portions of our character. 
Few, it may be, are extortioners, or unjust, or adulterers, or 
distinguished for the avarice and oppression of publicans — I 
say these may be few, perhaps there are some, who cannot 
say as much for themselves as the Pharisee. But allow the 
number to be small who outstrip their neighbors in degener- 
acy and corruption of morals. Is the number small who value 
themselves highly on account of such distinction ? Are there 
not many who think it a great virtue, and, indeed, about 
enough to challenge God's acceptance on the ground of it, that 
they have abstained from great vices ? Be it so — they have 
abstained from these — they are completely exempt. They 
know it, and those who are best acquainted with the minutest 
parts of their history also know it, and must acknowledge it. 
But are they not on this account tolerably well satisfied with 
themselves ? Are they not even in the presence of God proud 
of their superiority? Yes, they are thus superior. They are 
perhaps singled out by the admiration of one another, and by 
their own, too, as the just, the true, the upright, the amiable, 
the kind and the charitable among the many around them. 
They are not as other men, for others are a great deal worse 
than they are, and perhaps even in this temple of God, and 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN". 345 

before his mercy- seat, their own conscience can tell them how 
pleased they are to hear the acknowledgment. 

But not so fast. For we have to inquire whether, after all, 
the declaration of the Pharisee was not substantially false. I 
mean to raise the question whether, in character, he was not 
substantially like other men — even just like the publican. 
What, then, decides moral character? Motives — principles. 
Did the Pharisee abstain from overt acts of extortion, injus- 
tice, adultery, fraud, and oppression? Be it so. What was 
his motive ? Nothing appears to prove to the contrary, and 
much to prove directly that he was actuated by nothing but 
a spirit of mere selfishness. The fact that such a man would 
be apt to boast of all he could, and he boasted only of external 
exemption from gross sins, looks very much as if he had noth- 
ing better to boast of; and that, therefore, nothing better 
than a regard to his own reputation, or an avaricious spirit, or 
some other selfish principle, was the moving spring of all his 
boasted abstinence from the crimes which others committed. 
What, then, is the mighty difference between the man who is 
unjust, or sensual, or oppressive through selfishness, and one 
who abstains from these overt acts from the same principle — 
between a man who, to promote a selfish purpose, defrauds 
you in a contract, or who, to secure the same selfish end, deals 
honestly ? Do you say the difference is great in the degree of 
wickedness ? Be it so. What is the difference as it respects 
substantial character, as that is decided by motives — by prin- 
ciples ? Not a whit. Besides, what is there in such a man, 
which might not be in him, and form precisely the same char- 
acter, were the belief of a God utterly discarded ? Were the 
being of a God denied or unknown, still there might be a 
feeling of compassion for suffering humanity — the shame of 
being detected in any thing mean and disgraceful. Still a 
regard to reputation might make men outwardly just, and 
true, and kind, and public-spirited. But would there be any 
moral excellence in such a character, any goodness in a heart 

that acknowledges no God, and thinks of none ? And does 
15* 



34G THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

the fact that there is a God, and that he has come to man with 
his claims upon the whole heart of man, in nowise touch the 
question of character? Are the very principles and motives 
which might exist in the midnight region of atheism — are 
these enough, when the reality of a perfect God is revealed 
with his claims on the heart ? Men may say it is enough, the 
deluded man of pride and self-sufficiency may say it is enough ; 
but will God say it is enough ? "No. He says, and every con- 
science approves of the decision — he says of such a man, be 
the operation or form of his selfishness what it may, he loves 
the world, and the love of the Father is not in him. He loves 
the world, and the friendship of the world is enmity against 
God. "Whether a Pharisee or a publican, whether graced with 
all the charms of external morality, or debased by the deform- 
ity of the greatest vices, in character he is a rebel against the 
government of God, so long as he wants the love of God. For 
surely, if such principles may exist where all is atheism, be- 
cause God is unknown — how does he stand convicted of a still 
deeper and more determined atheism of heart, who, under a 
full revelation of a ruling God and all his claims, is still satis- 
fied with himself, and proud of his moral superiority, while 
living without God in the world ! And are there no facts to 
prove it? Have you never heard it said, we have done no 
harm in the world ; there are others a great deal worse than 
we are ; we have done a great deal of good ? Have you never 
heard the humble Christian ridiculed and laughed at for his 
humility and self-abhorrence, and all that part of experimental 
religion which lays the sinner guilty and condemned at the 
feet of mercy — have you never witnessed all this denounced 
as hypocrisy, cant, and enthusiasm — and have you not wit- 
nessed, too, at least a secret self-congratulation, like a thmik 
God of the Pharisee, that we have no cause for such humilia- 
tion before him ? Yes, yes, we have all witnessed it in others, 
if we have not felt it in our own proud hearts ! And thus it 
is, that in this world of alienation from God, and of rebellion 
against him, the very rebels themselves, who have one and the 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 347 

same character, and are under the same condemnation, and 
for whom the same atoning blood was shed, are praising one 
another, flattering themselves, and secretly thanking God, too, 
that they are not as other men are. 

But the Pharisee has something more in reserve, even some 
works of supererogation to recommend himself to God. " I 
fast twice in the week, I pay tithes of all 1 possess." The 
observance of these fasts rested on no higher authority than 
the tradition of the Rabbins, and was designed simply to make 
an impression of superior sanctity. It is true, useful as oc- 
casional fasting may be to the Christian, that it is not the 
method of discovering our religious character, and of securing 
a reputation for religion. And as to tithes, although our con- 
tributions, and donations, and charity are demanded, and 
although more of the Spirit of the Lord Jesus would double 
them; and although we are not so Judaical and superstitious 
as to avow the creed that such punctilious observances will 
atone for the want of vital piety — still are there not many 
who take such a complacency in these things, so substitute 
them for something better, as really to overlook their own 
want of vital godliness? Is it not fashionable with many, to 
acknowledge with much seriousness the importance of religious 
institutions, religious doctrines, and to deprecate the preva- 
lence of heresies and infidelity ? Is it not creditable to lend 
to the religion of the gospel, generally, our countenance and 
approbation, to show to its ministers agreeable attentions, and 
to its ordinances an honorable respect ? Is it not a matter of 
custom with many, to give a scrupulous attendance on the 
worship of the Sabbath, and even on all other occasions of 
meeting for this purpose ? Is it not also sometimes a fashion- 
able affair to make contributions to the religious and charitable 
enterprises of the day % ISTow, in all this, in itself, there may 
be nothing to condemn. I will not raise the question whether, 
in any of these things, there is excess or defect. There may 
be both. We are glad to see religious institutions respected, 
we are certainly, as ministers, thankful for personal favors ; but 



348 THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

do not ask ns, in return, to strengthen you in the delusion that 
all this is of necessity real religion — that any outward respect 
will atone for the wickedness of a heart that sets at naught 
its authority, or to allow you to rest in the quieting hopes 
of ultimate salvation, upon these easy expressions of respect 
and good-will to religion. Is there no reason to fear, in your 
case, that you substitute these for that thorough purity and 
inward devotion of heart which are the life and soul of Chris- 
tianity ? Is it not an easy and a pleasant service to contrib- 
ute a word or a dollar in support of divine institutions, but 
would it not be a task and an aversion to give an example of 
the graces these services would form, or to sacrifice a sin that 
is at war with their spirit ? Is it not a matter of some self- 
complacency that you are so punctual at places of worship, 
and yet a matter of no painstaking to govern your tempers or 
to practice the more self-denying duties of the family ? How 
does your religion thrive in the closet ? What are the emo- 
tions of your heart when alone with God? Now, the religion 
of fashion, the religion of habit, the religion of inheritance, 
and the religion of form may all exist, and the heart cherish 
real enmity to the God who made it. Can you, then, apart from 
all that is connected with the religion of externals — all that is 
adapted to obtain for you applause — all that is calculated to 
foster pride, or sloth, or self-dependence — can you then appeal 
to the affections, when religion is reduced as it were to its very 
elements and substance — the naked exercise of the spirit — 
the longings and the purposes of that spirit, and its practical 
results, as the proof of real godliness? If not, it is all the 
homage of a formal, hollow-hearted service ; and yet thus it is 
that thousands deceive themselves. They are resting their 
hopes for eternity on this rotten foundation, and secretly, if not 
openly, thank God that they are so much better than others. 

We now recur to the publican, who is set before us as an 
example for imitation. We can only refer briefly to some of 
the prominent facts respecting him. 

"The publican standing afar off, would not lift up so 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 349 

much as his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, 
saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." There is noth- 
ing in this account that leads us to conclude that the pub- 
lican, after all the boasting and the abusive insinuations of 
the Pharisee, was any worse than himself, or that he fell be- 
low the average character of unrenewed men. At all events, 
if this were the time and place for boasting, he might have 
made no unfavorable comparison between himself and his 
fellow- worshiper. He might have said, God, I thank thee 
that I am not as proud, as vain, as superstitious, as formal as 
other men, or even as this Pharisee. I place no reliance on 
ritual observance, I am not a slave to the traditions of the 
elders, but I worship thee, who art a spirit, in spirit and in truth. 
If boasting belonged to either, it belonged to the publican. If 
it be the actual possession of moral excellence that is a just 
ground for self-complacency and gratitude, it is the sinner 
humbled at the foot of the cross, and he only, who has cause 
to glory. But you hear no encomium on himself from the 
publican — you never hear it from any humbled sinner. You 
hear it, if you hear it at all, from those who have nothing to 
boast of, and who must be not only tilled with pride and self- 
conceit, but bold enough in iniquity even, to lie at the very 
footstool of Omniscience, No other men do or can boast of 
their good deeds. 

" The publican stood afar off." Here you can contrast his 
feelings with those of the proud suppliant near him. The 
place was the temple, and he felt it to be consecrated by the 
presence of God. Not the conceited imaginary worth of his 
own character, but a sense of the purity and awful majesty of 
the God he worshiped, occupied his soul — and you see in his 
very attitude and demeanor that deep reverence and solemn 
awe which a sinner ought to feel when, as it were, he is alone 
with God, and holding converse with him. The worth and 
majesty of the Eternal stood in visible array before him, and 
well might he feel that his place was afar off. 

You can see also his sense of unworthiness and guilt. He 



350 THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

would not lift up so much as his eyes to heaven. To lift both 
the hands and eyes toward heaven was a common attitude of 
supplication. In his refusal to lift so much as his eyes, we see 
the deep sense he had of his own unworthiness. It tells with 
an emphasis what language could not tell, how unworthy he 
felt to appear even in the attitude of a suppliant ; how un- 
worthy to look toward the habitation of his offended God ; 
how unworthy of an inheritance in that world of purity and 
blessedness. 

He felt as if he had not a word to say. His unworthiness 
was too great to permit him to tell God his necessities. He 
scarcely dares vent his griefs and desires. To utter a word in 
his own vindication he could not ; to offer a single deed of 
his life, or even his present anguish and distress, as a reason 
for the divine favor, he could not. He is too wicked to pray, 
and too wicked not to pray. To defer his application for 
mercy, is to add to his guilt, to multiply his provocations, and 
to be more wicked still. To offer to God the desires of a heart 
unbroken for sin, is mockery, and he has no evidence as yet 
of his own contrition ; whether he can pray with acceptance, 
or whether his very prayer will be an abomination, he knows 
not. "What shall he do ? " He smites upon his breast." What 
an expression of inward grief — of his sense of the wickedness 
of his heart — as if he had said, oh, this wicked heart of mine, 
how alienated from God, how ungrateful for his mercies, how 
rebellious against his authority ! What a fountain of iniquity 
it hath been ; what authority, what motives, what obligations, 
what light and love and grace I have slighted ! How despe- 
rately wicked it hath been, every imagination of the thoughts 
thereof ! It is full of evil ; and even now, how hard and stub- 
born and unyielding ! Still I can reject the proffered salva- 
tion of God ; still my heart will not relent. Oh, what must 
become of me ! To return to stupidity in sin, is death ; to 
remain where I am, is death. I have never prayed aright 
before, and it is high time I had. I can but persist ; I am 
resolved to try. "God be merciful to me a sinner." And 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 351 

never did a sinner utter a better prayer. Though, short and 
unlabored, it flowed from a full soul ; and this man went down 
to his house justified rather than the other. 

Let us, then, briefly examine this prayer, which prevailed 
with God. It was dictated by a broken and a contrite heart. As 
in the case of Paul, the commandment had come, sin revived, 
and he died. He saw and he felt the evil of sin as the trans- 
gression of the perfect law of a perfect God. He saw and felt 
the evil of sin as committed against God — as a contempt of his 
authority — as ingratitude for his mercies — as rebellion against 
his throne, and hostility to all his designs. He saw and he 
felt the justice of his own condemnation. All questions and 
all doubts on this point ended at this spot ; he felt his de- 
sert of the just sentence of a just God, and his mouth had 
been stopped from that moment had that sentence been exe- 
cuted. To be a sinner against God, and to feel it, is to feel all 
this. 

His plea was for mercy. There was not a word, not a 
thought, about justice — about merit — about good deeds out- 
weighing bad ones — not one proffered act of obedience as the 
price of God's favor, but he asked for mercy, for favor to the 
guilty and the hell-deserving. 

ISTor is this all. It was the prayer of faith in the atonement. 
This the original word decisively denotes. "Whether he knew 
the precise nature of the atonement by the Son of God or 
not, is immaterial. He knew, as did all the saints under the 
old dispensation, that God showed mercy to the guilty only 
through an atonement — only in a way which should magnify 
his law and vindicate his justice. Here, then, was his reliance. 
He did not approach God as too severe to punish sin, as an in- 
dulgent God who can overlook the sins of his creatures, whose 
denunciations of wrath are mere empty threatenings that 
neither will be, nor ought to be, executed. Such was not the 
God whom the publican approached. He came to that God, 
whose justice is pledged to execute wrath for sin, and will exe- 
cute it, either on the sinner or on a substitute — to that God 



352 THE PHAEISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

whose justice has poured his wrath upon the head of its pro- 
pitiatory victim and shines with no less splendor in the pardon 
than in the punishment of the guilty. He wished to come in 
no other way ; he wished to come in this. He saw the glory 
of that God with whom he had to do, and he did not indulge 
a desire to be saved in a way that should tarnish it. Here, 
then, in the mercy of God in Christ, on the merit of that pre- 
cious blood typified by the blood of lambs — the blood of the 
Lamb of God— he put his trust. And here we must all come. 
For it is added as the grand point of instruction of the para- 
ble, and as the decision of eternal truth, " For every one that 
exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth him- 
self shall be exalted." 



EEMAEK8. 

1. How vain must be the hope of those who expect heaven 
because they are not so wicked as others. Few there may be 
who frankly avow that such is their hope, but there is proof 
enough that multitudes cherish it. We have heard the hope 
expressed on the very bed of death, and witnessed there the 
delusive quiet, the consolation, the pride, and the contempt 
of Jesus and his salvation, which result from the persuasion 
that the dying sinner is not so wicked as some others. And 
is it so, that this is just ground for such a hope? How wicked 
must a man be to be damned ? Is it no matter how wicked, 
if so be another can be found more wicked than himself? Tell 
us where is the limit of this hope. If the man who can find 
others worse than himself may, on that account, hope for 
heaven, then go down the descending scale of moral char- 
acter, and tell us where and who is wicked enough to be 
damned, and where, in the name of truth and righteousness, 
are you to stop ? At the prison, the thief, the cell of the 
highwayman, and the gallows of the murderer? !No. Per- 
adventure there may be one worse than they, who, by his still 
deeper malignity in sin, shall become, to all intents and pur- 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 353 

poses, the savior of those who had otherwise deserved and in- 
curred the same damnation ! And thus it is that multitudes 
are solacing themselves with the conception of the slenderness 
of their own guilt and the kindness of an indulgent God ; thus 
it is that a spirit of deep slumber has laid hold of their con- 
science, and is speeding their infatuated way to hell. But is 
this the plan of salvation revealed in this book of God ? Are 
you not just as wicked as if you were the only rebel against 
God in the universe ? Summon all the devils in hell to your 
side, and enter into a comparison, and prove that every one 
of them has cherished a deeper malice against God, uttered 
more blasphemies against him. Will this lessen your guilt ? 
"Will this impair your desert of the wrath of that God against 
whom you have maintained as firm and open rebellion as your 
own selfish interests would permit ? Tell us if such greater 
guilt in devils can take the place of Jesus's blood in your sal- 
vation. Away, then, with these flattering comparisons of 
yourselves with others, this self-gratulation, this deep and fatal 
tranquillity, because you are not the worst sinner throughout 
God's dominions. To the law and the testimony. There you 
shall find that you have guilt enough to damn you, and that 
it will damn you unless you hasten to the spot where the pub- 
lican stood, and with him cry, " God be merciful to me a 
sinner." 

2. Let us beware how by comparing ourselves with others 
we are led to despise them. 

This is what the Pharisee did, not the publican. This is 
what God abhors, not what God approves. It is pride. No 
humble Christian does it when conviction of sin has taken 
possession of the mind, and the sinner is brought to compare 
himself with the law of God, and see himself in that light, as 
he is, a guilty, hell-deserving sinner ; then he has done with 
comparing himself with other men. But a more proud and 
haughty man treads not on earth than he who, from the pin- 
nacle of self-righteousness, looks down on his neighbor, saying, 

" Stand by thyself, come not near to me, for I am holier than 

23 



354 THE PHARISE.E AND PUBLICAN. 

thou;" u God, I thank thee that I am not as other men." 
Like leviathan in the waters, that man is king over the chil- 
dren of pride. 

It is ignorance. It is ignorance of the most plain and im- 
portant of all subjects — ignorance which implies a mind stupe- 
fied, degraded, besotted by sin. The man is ignorant of God, 
ignorant of his law, ignorant of himself, ignorant of what he 
ought to be, ignorant of what he is, ignorant of what awaits 
him in a near and hastening eternity. Comparing himself 
with other rebels against God, and on the ground of their 
superiority in guilt, trusting in himself as right, and expect- 
ing God's approbation, what does such a man know ? 

It is hypocrisy — hypocrisy of the grossest aspect. I know 
such men flatter themselves that they abhor hypocrites. It is 
their character to despise others ; and that whether they are 
better or worse than themselves. But who is a greater hypo- 
crite than he who has always lived unmindful of his God, who 
has broken his law in every instance of moral action, who has 
not a particle of moral excellence, and if he had, would have 
no cause for boasting, and yet boasts of his abstinence from 
sin, and straightens himself among his fellows on the staff of 
his imagined merits ? I tell you there is not a more vain, con- 
ceited being, as God sees him, either in this or in any other 
world. 

It is open and base contempt of Jesus and his salvation. 
For how can such a man need the benefits of Christ's media- 
tion ? He can come directly to God and challenge acceptance ; 
and why was atoning blood shed for him ? It was a vain and use- 
less sacrifice, and this he pronounces it to be. But this is not 
the worst of it. The sinner brings his imaginary righteous- 
ness, destitute as it is of every quality of holy obedience, 
polluted as it is by enmity against God, and tells a spotless 
God, in the pride of self-complacency, that this is an adequate 
price for his favor ; it is a better offering than many others can 
make ; and that is reason enough why, polluted as it is, it 
should be preferred to the sacrifice of the son of God. I ask, 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 355 

if he who rejects the atonement of the Lord Jesus, who thus 
rejects it with the scorn of self-righteousness, rejects it by 
offering his very rebellion against God, as a worthier sacrifice, 
does not cause the measure of all ordinary guilt to overflow ? 
I ask, if the man who thus exalts himself will not be abased ; 
will not the darkest frown of divine indignation be turned 
upon him, and must not this attitude of self-complacency, this 
avowed contempt of God and his Son, land him in the deepest 
perdition of the pit ? 

3. No sinner, after such an example as that of the pub- 
lican, can have any excuse for not praying right, immedi- 
ately. 

Persons are very apt to suppose, that if they have never 
prayed aright, that a long time of preparation is necessary ; 
that they must at least feel more strongly, that they must wait 
and wait till they grow better, and often they wonder that 
ministers should urge them to a surrendry of their hearts to 
God, in the first prayer they offer. They know not how to do 
it, and there may be those who would be glad to ask us how 
they shall do it now. We answer by asking them, how did 
the publican do it ? Knowing as you do, that you are guilty and 
under God's condemnation, how long a time is necessary that 
you may feel it ; knowing as you do that there is no hope for 
you till you put your trust in the Lord Jesus, how long a time 
is necessary that you may feel that? Knowing that you grow 
no better till this is done, but rather grow worse ; knowing that 
to think you are growing better is a fatal delusion ; knowing 
that the Lord Jesus is willing to be trusted, and that you must 
come just as you are, how long time is necessary to feel that? 
What was there in the case of the publican which is not, or 
may not, at this moment be true of you ? If he was in the 
temple of God — as you now are — if he was under a conviction 
of guilt, as you now may be, and in the act of prayer actually 
yielded himself to God, why may not you. Fellow sinner, 
you may ; and if you refuse now to give up your heart to the 
same Saviour, you will add sin to sin. 



356 THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

4. Every one of us must be humbled before God, if we 
would partake of his mercy. 

Every one of us, wise or great, rich or happy — be we who 
or what we may— if we would partake of the salvation of 
God, must come down to the place where the publican was 
brought. Sinners we are, and sinners we must feel ourselves 
to be. Christ died for us in this character; all his overtures 
of mercy are made to us in this character; and God will ac- 
cept of us in no other. That sense of guilt and just condem- 
nation which makes mercy our only plea — that believing sense 
of the efficacy of Christ's atonement which leads us to make 
it all our dependence, must be felt, or his wrath must be felt 
for eternity. And now, my dear hearers, have you felt it ; 
have you smote upon your breast before God, as did the pub- 
lican ? If not, you are yet resting in proud security concern- 
ing your eternal all, while eternity is coming nearer and nearer 
every day. You are still clinging to a delusive notion, which 
defies the decisions of the eternal God, and pours scorn and 
contempt on the atonement of his Son. And, oh ! fellow-sin- 
ner, what shall sustain your tranquillity when death shall come 
and look on you in earnest. Will your own righteousness at that 
hour of pain and breathlessness — that hour when eternity and 
the God of eternity shall be so near — will your own righteous- 
ness then charm away the anticipations of vengeance? Or if 
your delusion should be strong enough, for so it may be, to 
stupefy and conduct you, without alarm, to the judgment-seat, 
how will you then feel, when shall be laid bare to God's in- 
spection, and your own, and that of assembled worlds, all 
your devotedness to the world, all your proud imaginations, 
all the filthy rags of your own righteousness, all your insolent 
contempt of Jesus' blood, all your enmity to God, and all 
your defiance of his decisions and his attributes ? Oh, when 
this shall be — when the Judge shall have come to fix the des- 
tinies of yourself, and your fellow-immortals — when the high 
test of heaven shall be applied to your character — when you 
shall thus be convicted of vour utter and constant rebellion 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 357 

against God, and stand speechless before the coming retribu- 
tions of eternity, what shall sustain you ? Justify yourself 
you cannot; hide from the hastening wrath you cannot; 
avert the arm of vengence you cannot ; bear the woes it will 
inflict you cannot. Fly, then, to the appointed refuge and 
be safe. 



XXVI. 

HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

1 Kings xviii. 21. 

"How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him; 
but if Baal, then follow him." 

It seems to have been the policy of the kings of Israel, at 
some periods of their history, to introduce that variety of wor- 
ship which should suit the taste of all. Accordingly, temples 
were erected for the worship of Baal, as well as altars to Je- 
hovah. The consequence was, idolatry became as fashionable 
as true religion, and far more prevalent ; and the further con- 
sequence was, indifference to all religion. The people did not 
deny that Jehovah was God, but they considered Baal as God 
also. Thus they halted between two opinions, neither openly 
avowing Jehovah nor Baal to be the true God to the exclusion 
of the other; but were satisfied with rendering to both a 
superficial and divided service. 

The bold and zealous prophet Elijah, who held men respon- 
sible for their opinions on such subjects, could not view such 
conduct without deep and strong emotion. Having by the 
king's command assembled all Israel, he came and said to all 
the people, "How long halt ye between two opinions?" 
Why this indifference and indecision, on the most momentous 
of all questions? Jehovah and Baal cannot both be God. 
Decide, therefore, which is God. If Baal be God, worship 
and serve him accordingly. But if Jehovah be God, choose 
him and him only as your portion ; give him your whole heart, 
and submit to all his commands. 



HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 359 

The spirit and conduct ascribed by the prophet to the people 
of Israel, are exhibited by multitudes at the present day. They 
do not despise religion; they are convinced of its truth, its 
importance, its excellence. Neither do they despise the world. 
They wonder, indeed, at the conduct of the profane and grossly 
wicked ; that men should dare to venture upon a course of open 
contempt of God and his laws; but still their attachments to 
the world are so strong, that they do not wholly renounce this 
idol of their heart. Their sense of obligation to God is too 
feeble to fix them in a steady, uniform course of obedience to 
his will. There is too much self-denial in this; and yet they 
have such convictions of its importance, that they do not de- 
liberately resolve to renounce his service wholly and forever. 
If they do not profess to be religious, and openly and decidedly 
arrange themselves on the Lord's side, yet they profess not to 
be irreligious. They intend to be religious, perhaps sometimes 
attempt to be so, but the world easily diverts their attention, 
and weakens and breaks down their strongest resolutions. 
They bring nothing to pass. The reason is, they are undecided, 
they halt between two opinions. Thus multitudes go on, year 
after year, in a middle course between open irreligion and 
vice, and real devotion to the service of God. Thus, too, they 
die and go to the judgment. 

The text justly — 

First, Condemns this indecision in religion; and 

Second, Enjoins the duty of deciding who is truly God, and 
of serving him. 

I. This indecision is justly condemned. 

1. It is not honest. 

This indecision is not honest. It exists rather in appearance 
than in reality. It is an attempt to accomplish an utter im- 
possibility. No man can have two objects of supreme affec- 
tion. To whatever degree, therefore, such persons may pre- 
tend to renounce the world; to whatever degree they may 
pretend to serve God, it is in fact mere pretense. So long as 
their hearts are not fixed supremely on God, they are the ser- 



360 HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

vants of mammon. In all that they seem to do for God, noth- 
ing is truly done for him. The heart is insincere ; their pur- 
pose fluctuates, and therefore is unreal. God is not chosen as 
the portion of the soul. The whole attempt is, in reality, a 
hypocritical artifice. 

2. They derive no full enjoyment from religion or the world. 
They enter not into the spirit of true religion ; they are in 

fact destitute of the least degree of it. They can, therefore, 
derive no enjoyment from religion. As to the world, their 
convictions of duty are too strong to suffer them to derive the 
full measure of enjoyment from that which it might otherwise 
afford. They desire from the world what they cannot have 
without uneasiness, and seek to find at least some good from 
religion, with no relish for its joys. They resort to two oppo- 
site sources of enjoyment. What they derive from one is em- 
bittered by what flows from the other. And it is alike true 
with respect to religion and the world, they can neither be 
satisfied with it, nor satisfied without it. They are self-tor- 
mentors. A life of self-inflicted misery — themselves self-tor- 
mentors. 

3. They have no peace of conscience. 

Conscience, whenever it speaks, and it speaks often and dis- 
tinctly, too, condemns them. They are strangers to its cheer- 
ing testimony, that by the grace of God they have had their 
conversation in the world. In the prospect of sickness, or 
death, it never whispers peace. On the contrary, it awakens 
the most distressing forebodings. In such minds, conscience 
seldom sleeps ; their whole life is little else than a conflict with 
this inward monitor, a course of efforts to stifle its voice, and 
to avoid reflection respecting God and eternity. And what 
more unhappy state, than to be constantly doing violence to 
conscience, and to be as constantly upbraided by its reproaches ; 
a sinful being making himself wretched under the smile of 
God's pardoning love; and instead of the hopes, the peace, 
the prospects of a probation of mercy, having perpetual earn- 
ests and foretastes of the retribution of guilt ! 



HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 361 

4. This state of mind is attended more or less with a sense 
of shame. 

Few things are more wounding to the pride of man, than 
conscious imbecility of purpose and character. And in no 
case, perhaps, is this consciousness more inevitable than in a 
state of indecision with respect to religion. To be convinced 
of the magnitude and importance of the object, to form reso- 
lution after resolution, to make effort after effort, and accom- 
plish nothing, to be frustrated in such an undertaking, by the 
most insignificant causes, must bring the reproach of weakness, 
and the feeling of self-contempt. How constantly he wishes 
he had more reason, more sense, more any thing, which gives 
self-respect ! How he must feel reproached by the kindest 
estimate of the wise and good — that he has none of that reso- 
lution and firmness of character, which produce results — that 
he is one of those light, passive bodies which, under the most 
powerful impulse, is put at rest by the most trifling obstacle — 
a floating leaf whirled and stopped by every weed or eddy in 
its way ! 

5. This state of mind is full of danger. 

If such are not sooner or later discouraged, and led to aban- 
don all thoughts of becoming religious, nothing will be effected, 
as the result of such a course. Indecision never did any thing 
to the purpose in worldly pursuits, much less in religion. 
Analyze this state of mind, and you will see that it must be 
so. An undecided purpose is the want of all purpose. And 
the want of a purpose to act in such a case, is a purpose not 
to act. A determination to do nothing. It may vary in its 
strength from the purpose of the openly dissolute and aban- 
doned ; but it is the same in kind, a determination not to be 
religious ; and what can be the result of such a purpose but 
death? 

At the same time it has an. awfully deceptive influence. 

The openly profligate can hardly admit that he is either right 

or safe. He can at least be more easily shown his danger. 

But the man who imagines himself but at a little distance from 

Vol. I.— 16 



362 HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

the path of rectitude and safety, who supposes at most but a 
few steps need be taken to reach it, and who perhaps per- 
suades himself that he is fast approaching it, has of all men 
most cause for alarm. While the real danger of his condition 
is as great as that of any other, he is blind to the fact. He is 
beyond the reach of alarm. He sees not the evils of his case 
to be great, and therefore is satisfied that mere palliatives 
should be administered; every severe remedy is rejected, be- 
cause it is deemed unnecessary. He is content to halt be- 
tween two opinions, to stand on the brink of perdition, with 
his eyes shut. 

6. This state of mind is highly criminal. 

"Whether Jehovah or Baal be God, he is the supreme good, 
the being who has a right to command; he ought to be 
obeyed. ISTo matter which be God ; no matter which be the 
eternal self-existent Being that made us and all things, that 
preserves and blesses us ; no matter which is the truly excel- 
lent and truly glorious being, possessing in himself, and capa- 
ble of imparting to us, all that can perfect and bless the 
immortal spirit ; no matter to which we are under the infinite 
obligations which result from facts like these, be he whom he 
may — Jehovah or Baal, God or the world — that being, that 
object, we ought to love and choose and serve forever. These 
obligations exist somewhere. We cannot annul or lessen them. 
We are created, we are upheld, we are blessed in this world, 
we are capable of joy and blessedness through eternity. There 
is one to whom we owe all that we are and possess. This 
being is Jehovah or Baal ; there cannot be more than one 
supreme God. There must be one. There can be no con- 
flicting claims, no compromise of services. Who, then, can 
measure the guilt of refusing to decide which is God ? What 
language can describe the enormity of indifference or hesita- 
tion in such a case ; what authority does it not despise ; what 
obligations does it not violate ? What, my hearers, if the hosts 
of heaven should begin to doubt on this subject, and should 
suspend their songs, and waver, and hesitate, and delay their 



HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 363 

homage, to decide whether the Jehovah that reigns there is 
the true God, and whether he or a dumb idol deserves their 
worship ? How, then, must this conduct appear in man ? 
What is such conduct hut rebellion against Jehovah, unmiti- 
gated even by respect, or rather aggravated by proud con- 
tempt? 

Such are some of the characteristics of this indecision. 
Whether the worshiper of Jehovah or the devotee of the 
world be right, they who hesitate are wrong. 

II. Our text enforces the duty of deciding who is truly God, 
and of serving him, whether Jehovah or mammon, God or 
the world. This may be done by considering what they are 
in themselves, what they have done for you, and what they 
can and will do for you. 

1. What they are in themselves. 

There is a Being possessed of every perfection and every 
excellence. There is a Being, the very thought of whom fills 
the mind at once, and will fill the highest created intelligence 
with adoration and astonishment forever. The most daring 
flight of imagination, the utmost comprehension of thought, 
even of angels and archangels, instead of fathoming the abyss 
of glory, are lost in the inexhausted and inexhaustible riches 
that spread and multiply around them. There is a Being 
whose majesty and dignity no created being can describe, 
who is first, and last, and midst, " that is, and that was, and 
that is to come." He formed all things by a word ; he sus- 
tains and pervades the universe he has made. Nothing is too 
vast for his control, nothing too little for his inspection. If 
we attempt to conceive whatever is great in power, compre- 
hensive in wisdom, perfect in purity, and enchanting in good- 
ness, we shall form to ourselves not a living picture of Deity, 
but a faint and shaded image, such as our mortal vision may 
bear to behold. What an assemblage of attributes must that 
be which exalts his glory above the heavens ; what perfection, 
what excellence must that be, before which angels cast their 
crowns and vail their faces ; what glory is that which wakes 



364 HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

the song that echoes through heaven's eternal arches and 
makes all its pillars tremble ? This Being is Jehovah. Look, 
then, at the world, what is it! Its wealth, but glittering 
atoms ; its honor, empty breath ; its pleasure, animal sensa- 
tion. Yanity and vexation of spirit is the whole amount. 
Who, then, is God — Jehovah or Baal ? Who is worthy of the 
love and service of such a being as man — God or the world ? 

2. Consider what they have doue for you. 

There is a Being whose hands have formed thee and fash- 
ioned thee, who hath breathed into thee the breath of life, and 
made thee a living soul. His visitation hath every day and 
moment preserved your soul in life ; you have lived on the 
provisions of his bounty ; his constant care hath preserved 
you from innumerable evils ; you have walked amidst sick- 
ness, and dangers, and sorrows, and death, but in God you 
have lived and moved and had your being. There is a Being 
who has borne more than a father's love to you — a Being 
whom you have provoked by your sins-— yet has withheld his 
anger ; and, instead of destroying you forever, has waited to 
be gracious. When you were lying on the verge of endless 
woe, beyond the reach of all created help, that being sent his 
only-begotten Son into the world to redeem and save you — to 
redeem and save you, when his enemies, by dying for you. 
He made atonement for your sins, brought in an everlasting 
righteousness for you, and opened to you, in all your guilt, the 
portals of everlasting life. Read the greatness of his love and 
his zeal for your salvation in the blood he shed, the pains and 
agonies he underwent for you. There is a Being who hath 
sent his holy Spirit into the world, that this work of redeem- 
ing love might not be lost upon you through your contempt 
and obstinacy — sent him to renew and sanctify your polluted 
soul, to enstamp on it his own likeness, and to fit it for his 
own eternal and blissful presence. 

Now, in opposition to these claims, what pretensions can 
the world make ? What has it done for you ? If it hath ad- 
ministered in some degree to your comfort, still it has deceived 






HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 365 

you at every step ; it has corrupted your heart and debased 
you in the depths of moral degradation. It has vexed, and 
troubled, and almost ruined you forever. It has not, in a 
solitary instance, promoted your real good. Which, then, is 
God — Jehovah or the world? Which deserves your heart? 
What but unspeakable folly and madness can doubt ? Who 
does not say, " To thee, O God, my Maker, my Preserver, my 
Benefactor, my Kedeemer, my Sanctitier, I devote, I conse- 
crate myself? I perceive thy right to all that 1 am; to thee, 
through him who bought me with his blood, I devote myself, 
my all. Had I ten thousand times more to give, it should all 
be thine. God's I am, and God I will serve." 

3. What can the world, what can God do for you ? 

The world promises much, but what has it truly in its 
power to give ? Nothing. For even the good things of this 
life are distributed by the providence of God, and without his 
leave you cannot enjoy the meanest comfort. True, the world 
sets before us a few images of outward pomp and grandeur; 
there are those among its devotees who, as it would persuade 
us, are happy. But it hides the thousands who die martyrs 
to its wretched cause. Even those who make a great and 
gay appearance outwardly, and whose happiness appears com- 
plete, are for the most part truly miserable within — mere ob- 
jects of pity. But let it be supposed that all which the world 
promises it will actually perform. Contemplate, then, the value 
of its gifts, and give them all they possess. Suppose you live in 
ease, in pleasure ; that you are ever exempt from sickness and 
calamity, from care and anxiety; that you enjoy uninter- 
rupted prosperity ; that you are rich and honorable ; that you 
live long in this scene of unmingled enjoyment, with nothing 
to disturb your peace without, and the accusations of con- 
science silenced within, not a cloud obscuring the continual 
sunshine of your life. Delightful prospect ! Yes, here is all 
that the world can give, and it gives it all to you. But how 
long will it last ? Look at your grave, which lies open a little 
way before you. How soon will death spread a dark vail over 



366 HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

all these scenes of pleasure ; how soon will a shroud, a coffin, 
and a spot of earth for your body, be all that will remain to 
you ? What, then, will be your condition ? What scenes will 
you then have to witness ? The trial of the great day of ac- 
count ; the final sentence that will fix your endless doom ; the 
pains and torments of eternity ! There was a rich man who 
was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously 
every day. He died and was buried, and in hell he lifted up 
his eyes and cried in vain for a drop of water to quench his 
thirst. Ask him what the world is worth. 

Consider now what the Lord can do, and what he will do, 
for you. There is a Being in whose favor is life, and whose 
loving-kindness is better than life. True it is, in his service 
many things grateful to your corrupt appetites must be aban- 
doned ; much self-denial must be practiced ; many conflicts 
must be sustained. We would not deceive you with unreal 
representations. After all, who will say that the good things 
of this life are not ordinarily distributed as bountifully to the 
righteous as to the wicked ? Be this as it may, there is one 
who will give you as much of these things as infinite wisdom 
sees best for you. Who would wish for more ? If a friend of in- 
finite wisdom and kindness will choose for you, who would wish 
to choose for himself? There is one who can and will be your 
refuge in every time of trouble. How delightful amid all the 
strange and disastrous changes and calamities, to lift an eye of 
joy and confidence upward to an almighty omnipresent friend, 
to cast away all solicitude, and to lean safety on his everlast- 
ing arm ? There is an infinite Being who will impart peace to 
your soul, give you the privileges of the children of the high- 
est, and hold frequent and delightful communion with you in 
this world. He will give an interest in those promises whose 
length and breadth and height and depth have no limit but 
his own boundless goodness, and accompany that interest with 
a humble hope that these promises are yours. He will deliver 
you from the vexation and the defilement of sinful passions, 
create within you the moral image of his own unspotted 



HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 367 

purity, unite you in heart, in principle, in conduct, in employ- 
ments, and, of course, in bliss, with himself and with the holy 
universe. He will lift upon you the light of his countenance 
as a foretaste of heaven, cleanse you from guilt in that blood 
which satisfies every claim of eternal justice ; he will, as the 
eternal Spirit, dwell in you to enlighten, guide, sanctify, 
strengthen, and comfort you. He will impart to you that 
submission, and confidence, and gratitude, and love, which 
are the elements of the Christian character — holy and heavenly 
elements that shall survive the lapse of ages and flourish in 
eternal beauty. He will erect and finish a kingdom that will 
show what infinite power, directed by infinite wisdom . and 
goodness can do, to bless his creatures and make you a par- 
taker in its joys — joys as pure as heaven and lasting as his 
throne. In a word, there is one who is the fountain and 
source of all good — who made the heavens and the earth — the 
giver of all that ministers to the good of man, whose presence 
diffuses joy and rapture through all the hosts of heaven — who 
is full of glory, bliss and goodness, and who gives them to all 
who love him. Who, then, can halt between two opinions 
any longer ; what ground can there be for a moment's hesi- 
tation ? Who does not say, the Lord, he is God — the Lord, he 
is God? 

And, my dear hearers, let me call your serious individual 
consideration to the subject before us. Are there not some — I 
speak both to those who do and those who do not profess reli- 
gion — are there not some among you, whose state and charac- 
ter have been described. 

To all such I would address the words of the prophet, " How 
long halt ye between two opinions ?" Why do you hesitate in 
such a concern as this ? Is not the question worth deciding — 
whether you will take God or the world for your master — 
your eternal portion ? Is it not easily decided ? Is there any 
thing to hinder your choice ? Is not indecision a state of shame, 
vexation and wretchedness; is it not replete with guilt and 
danger? Do you not dishonor God, by standing to compare 



368 HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 

his claims with those of a dumb idol, or this polluted world? 
Does not the plea of mercy grow feebler and feebler, and the 
demands of justice louder and louder? Can any thing be lost 
by a decision? Will not your soul be lost without it ? As you 
are, are you not every moment provoking an offended God to 
pour out his eternal vengeance upon you ? By one decisive 
purpose of your soul may not everlasting life be yours? How 
long, then, halt ye between two opinions? Oh, shame on our 
species! Creatures, surrounded by the proofs of the eternal 
power and Godhead of Jehovah — sustained every moment by 
his righteous hand, and blessed with the ceaseless flow of his 
bounties ; reprieved from hell and damnation by his mercy, 
and invited to fellowship with him in blessedness and glory — 
these creatures, looking on this corrupting world, hesitate 
which they will serve ! These creatures, knowing what the 
world is — what the soul is — what its doom is; knowing what 
sin is — what hell is, and what heaven is ; knowing what Jesus 
Christ the Saviour is — what his love to them is ; these creatures 
of God knowing what God is — what he is in his wrath, and 
what he is in his mercy — what his friendship is — what it is to 
go away an outcast from that friendship for eternity — what it 
is to live forever under the frown of his indignation, and what 
it is to live forever under the smiles of his love, and what it 
is to be happy as God can make happy, such creatures of God, 
when called to his service hesitate — come into his presence — 
hear his voice of entreaty, hear the thunders of his vengeance, 
and look on the bright visions of his promises, and halt between 
two opinions! And, my dear hearers, what more can be said? 
"If the Lord be God follow him; if Baal, then follow him." 
Make your choice at all hazards. If this world be the only 
good, if this be the fit and proper object of your affections, if 
this world can satisfy your immortal desires, if it can support 
under trials, give you peace of conscience, if it can cheer you 
in death, and bless you through eternity, then fix your heart 
upon it, pursue it as your chief good, resolutely, and to the 
end ; cast off the fear of God, silence the voice of conscience, 



HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. 369 

away with the fears of death and hell, and make the most of 
this object of your choice. But if the Lord be God — if he is 
the eternal, self-existent, glorious being whose claims upon 
your heart no tongue can describe, if he is the only object that 
can fill the soul, if without his blessing all is wretchedness 
here and forever ; if, my dear hearers, you are immortal, if 
there is a judgment to come on whose throne he will sit, — if 
there is a heaven which his mercy hath prepared, if there is 
a hell kindled by his justice, if there is a God, follow him. 
16* 24 



XXVII. 

MAKING EXCUSES. 

Luke xiv. 18. 
" I pray thee, have me excused." 

JSTo man goes on quietly in his sin, with just views of the 
nature of sin and of his desert of its fearful consequences. 

To avoid such views, and to secure to the mind some toler- 
able degree of quietness in determined iniquity, the most com- 
mon and the most eifectual expedient, is that of making ex- 
cuses. Not with standing the clear revelation which God has 
made of his will, almost every one has an extensive list of pre- 
texts, excuses, palliations and apologies to which he resorts, as 
occasion demands, to weaken the force of his obligations, and 
to hide from his own view the guilt of transgression. The 
practice commences so early, and is adopted so universally, 
that it seems to be not so much the result of habit, as itself a 
kind of instinct. The learned and the ignorant, the young 
and the old, appear alike acquainted with the art, and almost 
equally skilled in its application. 

A propensity so universal, with a practice founded upon it 
so hostile to the interests of the soul, demands our serious 
consideration. I shall consider it as vain, as criminal, as 
ruinous. 

I. All excuses for disobedience to God are vain. 

It were easy to show, by an examination of all the excuses 
which are offered for irreligious negligence, that they are 
utterly false, and therefore utterly vain. I can only notice 
briefly, a few of those which are most common. 



MAKING EXCUSES. 371 

One is, God makes us sinners, either by creating sin as a 
substantial property of the soul, or by the laws of propaga- 
tion, just as the other properties of the mind, or as the mem- 
bers of the body are propagated. But can this be so ? God 
create men sinners, or make them sinners by the laws of prop- 
pagation ! God make that sin, which, in the nature of things, 
cannot be sin ! God make the essential properties of the soul 
sin ! Why not, then, the organs of the body, or the features of 
the face ? Take care, you say, you limit the power of God. 
Limit the power of God ! Is it limiting the power of God to 
say he cannot make two and two five, or a part equal to the 
whole, or a thing to be and not to be at the same time? 
Plainly it is no limitation of the power of God, to say he can- 
not do such things. Power, in the true sense, has no concern 
with such things, and for this very good reason, they are not 
things. It is time that Christians and ministers had done with 
claiming for God the honor of the power to create sin in the 
human mind. A sinner for being what God made me ! God 
send men to hell for being what he makes them ! No. Sin 
is man's work. Sin is moral action — the act or exercise of 
the heart. God creates the man a free moral agent ; and the 
man makes himself a sinner. " O, Israel, thou hast destroyed 
thyself." 

Again, it is a sort of standing excuse with some sinners, 
when urged to perform their duty, to reply, we cannot. But 
what is the nature of the inability ? Their own consciousness, 
and the word of God, alike testify that it is the simple inability 
of disinclination — the inability of the carnal mind, which is 
enmity against God — the inability of wickedness, and nothing 
else — an inability, therefore, which is itself the essential crime, 
the very substance of guilt. Can it, then, be an apology? Will 
God regard the very guilt of sin, the very quality which ren- 
ders it worthy of his wrath, as its vindication ? 

Another excuse is, the Spirit of God is not ready to change 
my heart. And we ask, in reply, first, what if he is not ready 
to change your heart ? "Who made it necessary that this divine 



372 MAKING EXCUSES. 

agent should interpose to subdue the proud and wicked heart 
of the sinner to the love of God ? The sinner himself, and he 
only — he only, by his voluntary, cherished perverseness in 
sin. What, then, if the Spirit is not ready will this excuse 
you a moment — will this annihilate the guilt of that perverse- 
ness in sin, which, as a free moral agent, you can and ought 
to relinquish instantly, by loving God ? But I have another 
answer. You have no warrant to say, that the Spirit of God 
is not ready. I do not say that he is, or that he ever will be 
ready. You may be already given up to hardness of heart. 
But you have no warrant to say, that he is not ready. You 
do not know it — you cannot prove it ; and, in so saying, you 
may be lying against the Holy Ghost. He may be now striv- 
ing with you, in a manner, that would result in your instant 
conversion, were you not resisting and grieving him to the 
utmost. What if it should be so ? What sort of an excuse 
will your resisting and grieving the Holy Ghost, and then 
lying against him, prove to be at the bar of God ? 

The multitude of worldly cares and business, and a con- 
sequent want of time, is another common excuse for neg- 
lecting religion. The apology assumes that the business of 
the world and religion cannot go together — that one or the 
other must give way; whereas, the divine requirement is, that 
men must be as religious in their business as in the duties of 
the closet, or in the house of God. He, therefore, who has 
time for the business of the world, has at least, all that time 
for religion. And, as it respects the retired and devotional 
duties of religion, let the hours of every man's life which are 
wasted, answer. Let the sinner compare the value of his in- 
terests on earth with those of eternity — let him produce the 
result of his incessant worldly occupation ; and then ask whe- 
ther God will be satisfied that he wanted time for his service ? 

It is often said, we are as good as those around us, at 

least as the majority; and why need we be thus importuned 

on the subject of religion? The force of this excuse depends 

on the fact that others around you are as wicked as yourself; 

VoL I.— iv 



MAKING EXCUSES. 373 

and the corrupt inhabitant of Sodom or Gomorrah, to stay 
the storm of fire and brimstone, might have pleaded the same 
apology. 

Others say, there are so many hypocrites in the world, that 
we have our doubts whether, after all, religion be a reality. 
But why should there be hypocrites, if religion itself is not a 
reality ? If there were no true bank-notes, no bank, would 
there be counterfeits? Do you excuse one debtor from the 
payment of his debts, because others have paid you in base 
coin ? Will God excuse rebellion in you, because others mock 
him with hypocrisy ? No ; the demand is on you with addi- 
tional force, " Come, and do better than they." 

I might proceed to mention and expose many other similar 
excuses, for the neglect of religion generally. Equally empty 
and absurd are those which are offered for the omission of the 
particular duties of religion. Are we called upon to perform acts 
of charity, how commonly do we withhold our substance, under 
the plea of bestowing it upon some more worthy object, or be- 
cause we are too poor, while the more worthy object is never 
selected, and while we are blessed with an abundance. But 
will God be satisfied with such pretexts ? God requires us to 
work that we may have something to give to him that need- 
eth — to practice self-denial, too, that in this way we may in- 
crease our charitable contributions. What, then, will it avail 
to say, that our property is our own, our health requires in- 
dulgence, our station demands expense, our dependents are 
numerous, while we hoard up a fund that ought to be conse- 
crated to the solace of misery, or the advancement of knowl- 
edge and religion ? What will it avail to say, the wants of the 
.poor, the demands of charity are perpetual ? Will God sub- 
tract from our obligation because others are always miserable 
— because the opportunities of doing good are multiplied? 
What will it avail to say the times are hard ? Will God jus- 
tify us in retrenching from our charities, or from our useless 
and criminal indulgences ? 

How readily multitudes excuse themselves for omitting re- 



374 MAKING EXCUSES- 

ligious topics in conversation, the neglect of family prayer, or 
brotherly exhortation and admonition. They want confidence 
or talents, or it will answer no useful purpose. Do they want 
confidence or talents to express their opinions on politics or 
on the business of the world ? If not, their excuse is a false- 
hood ; and as to its answering no useful purpose, why, then, 
did God prescribe the duty? Did he not judge it useful? 
Can he not make it useful? Will he, then, accept of an apol- 
ogy which rejudges and condemns his decision and distrusts 
his grace ? 

The same course substantially, and to as little purpose, is 
adopted with respect to the sins of life. Are we angry ? We 
are naturally of a quick and passionate temper — as if the very 
business of religion was not to govern our temper, and as if 
the sin of not doing it, was its own apology. Are we worldly- 
minded ? It is prudence, necessary in providing for our families 
— as if the religion of the gospel was fatal to the duties of hu- 
manity, and as if God would accept of the reproach thus cast 
upon himself as an apology for making the world our god. 
Are we peevish and fretful under the little crosses of life ; do 
we murmur under disappointments, or despond under afflic- 
tions? Such things are irritating, or provoking, or trying, or 
hard to be borne by such creatures as we are — as if the very 
events of Providence which are designed to try our hearts, by 
detecting their depravity, excuse it. Do we neglect to profess 
Christ before men ? We are not Christians — it would be hy- 
pocrisy in us to profess to be what we are not — as if the Lord 
Jesus Christ, when he shall come to judge the quick and the 
dead, will excuse a refusal to profess his name and espouse his 
cause, because we were his enemies, and never thought his 
cause of sufficient importance to espouse it. But it is not 
necessary to proceed further to expose the emptiness of the 
particular excuses that are offered for disobedience to the will 
of God. There is one principle which exhibits them in all 
their vanity. God has not revealed his law and precepts for 
men to alter. He knew the character, conditions and circum- 



MAKING EXCUSES. 375 

stances of each and every individual ; he knew how to measure 
their exact obligations, what duties they ought to perform, 
and, of course, what laws to prescribe. Such laws he has pre- 
scribed. He knew all the reasons which would or could exist 
to impair the obligations of each, to extenuate the guilt of 
transgression; and as a righteous sovereign, if one such reason 
could exist, would have made the exception. But he has not 
made it. He has issued his commands as the infinitely wise, 
holy, just sovereign of men, without specifying a single excep- 
tion to the demand of unqualified obedience. Can man make 
these exceptions ? Can he assign reasons to set aside his obli- 
gations, or to palliate the sin of one known transgression or 
command of God? Can he invent reasons which will serve 
the purpose of an apology, which Omniscience never discov- 
ered ? Will it thus appear when he shall be summoned to the 
bar of God, that the righteous Judge had been unreasonable 
in a single demand ? No ; after all the ingenuity of carnal 
sophistry, to excuse and palliate the sins of men, each will 
appear replete with unabated guilt, and worthy of unmiti- 
gated damnation. 

II. All excuses for disobedience to the will of God are crim- 
inal. To make an excuse for what we have done is impeni- 
tence, and for not doing what we ought to do, is determined 
disobedience. 

In the one case it is impenitence. The very nature and 
design of an excuse for past transgressions, is to conceal, or 
rather to take away, their guilt . The moment that any action 
becomes excusable in our estimation, it ceases of course to be 
sinful. Its moral turpitude is gone, and no cause or ground 
for repentance remains. It is not a self-excuser who repents ; 
he has nothing to repent of. So, on the other hand, it is not 
the true penitent that frames excuses, for the obvious reason 
that in his own estimation lie is guilty. What is repentance, 
but a deep sense of sin ; and what is a deep sense of sin, if it 
does not involve a deep sense that we are wholly without 
excuse? How, then, can the holy relentings of repentance 



376 MAKING- EXCUSES. 

reach the heart of him who is clad in this impenetrable armor 
of excuses and apologies? Shoot at him the arrows of the 
Almighty, they fall without effect at his feet. Array before 
him the demands and terrors of the divine law, force him to 
go alone with his God and extort the confession of guilt from 
his lips — but is he convinced of sin, is he penitent ? No. His 
heart is beyond the power of truth or motives — yea, the Holy 
Ghost cannot reach it. He has found an expedient more 
powerful than the atoning blood of his Saviour ; his excuses 
not only take away the curse, but annihilate the guilt of sin ! 
After all that can be done he is a self-excused, impenitent 
rebel against God. 

Again, excuses for what we ought to do are no other than 
purposes of disobedience. This connection between an ex- 
cuse and the purpose to continue in sin is obvious. "What 
we take pleasure in, we employ no excuses to avoid. When 
we are hungry, do we invent excuses for not eating? or, when 
we are fatigued, for not taking rest ? And who that delights 
in the service of God, who that is not determined to rebel 
against him would offer apologies for disobedience ? How do 
the hosts of heaven perform the divine will ? Is it an obedi- 
ence from which they shrink ? Do angels rack their ingenuity 
to find some reason why they should intermit their songs ? 
"What if they should ? Would they evince the spirit of obedi- 
ence ? Would God be satisfied with that reluctant service 
which would be looking about for some apologies to authorize 
the neglect of it ? What, then, is the language of an excuse 
for disobeying any of God's commandments but a direct and 
avowed declaration of a purpose to disobey? What but a 
most undeniable proof that the service of God is abhorred ? 

Besides, every excuse is a direct denial of every obligation to 
obedience. If obligation exists, there can be no excuse ; if 
the excuse be valid, there can be no obligation. Thus the 
authority of God is denied and disclaimed upon principle. 
The supreme Majesty of heaven and earth has no right to 
command. His authority is usurpation; his government a 



MAKING EXCUSES. 377 

lawless despotism; himself a tyrant. Guilt, worthy of the 
endless wrath of God, belongs to the sinner, or it does not. If 
it does not, what shall we say of the God that threatens it ? If 
that misery is not deserved by man, infinite blame attaches to 
him who inflicts it. God declares that he will inflict this 
dreadful punishment on sinners for not making to themselves 
new hearts ; for not repenting of sin ; for not believing in the 
Saviour ; for not submitting to his authority. The sinner 
arrays his excuses, and affirms that no blame belongs to him 
for the failure to obey. To whom, then, does it belong ? To 
God. Yes, every excuse he offers lays the blame on God, 
and makes him the veriest tyrant that ever terrified the heart 
of man. Rebellion is, of course, legalized ; the standard of 
revolt should be reared throughout his vast dominions, and 

he who should dethrone the living God but I need not 

proceed ; it is plain that these excuses for disobeying God, 
which are so common — the guilt of which is so little thought 
of — are enmity, war, high-treason, against the majesty of heaven 
and earth, in its most horrid form — in its naked aspect. 

III. This practice is most ruinous. 

The real nature of disobedience to God cannot be altered 
by any delusive covering we can give it. On its real charac- 
ter God will fix his own estimate ; and while we cannot deceive 
him, in deceiving ourselves — if that be any consolation — we 
shall have great and lamentable success. To that heart which 
" is deceitful above all things," self-delusion is an easy task. 
Nor is there any form in which it can prove more certainly 
fatal than by leading us to make habitual excuses. These 
persuade us to cherish faults by whispering peace ; they pro- 
duce complacency and satisfaction in that very conduct which 
God pronounces worthy of his wrath ; conduct us to the brink 
of the precipice, and blind us to our danger. And who shall 
hope to conquer his sins who refuses to see them ; who shall 
turn from and escape the danger on which he shuts his eyes ? 
Not only is God provoked to withdraw his Spirit, but the 
conscience is steeled against conviction, and a fatal barrier is 



378 MAKINGS EXCUSES. 

raised between the soul and eternal life. This obstacle must 
be taken away. The sinner must take the shame and guilt of 
sin to himself, and clear his Maker, or nothing can be done for 
him. Until he shall strip himself of this covering of excuses, 
until he shall throw off the disguise which hides him from 
himself, he takes the readiest and surest way to ruin himself 
forever. He must lie down under a sense that he is with- 
out excuse ; he must let the conviction come in and possess 
the soul — with all its tremblings — that he deserves hell. 
This is the first step that ever was or ever will be taken 
toward salvation. If he will not take it, if he will stand 
there excusing himself till he dies, he will, he must, inevitably 
perish. 

Toward this sin, God has manifested his signal displeasure. 
Thus his wrath was kindled against Moses, when he excused 
himself from his mission into Egypt. Jonah, for a similar 
offense, was cast into the deep, " in the midst of the seas ; the 
waters compassed him about, even to the soul." And con- 
cerning those who rejected the invitation to the gospel feast, 
by excuses, the Saviour declared, "[None of those men who 
were bidden shall taste of my supper." For the contempt- 
uous rejection of the Saviour by excuses, the anger of God 
was kindled against the Jews — he cast them off from being 
his people, and gave them up to blindness of mind and hard- 
ness of heart. And why should the principles of his provi- 
dential administration be changed toward us? If God has 
expressed his displeasure against this sin, in his most faithful 
servants in other days — if he has abandoned sinners to final 
impenitence and ruin — how can we expect a dispensation in 
our favor, who live under the meridian light and heavenly 
privileges of his gospel? "He that covereth his sins, shall not 
prosper." The threatenings of the living God are not empty 
menaces. If he has executed them on sinners in other ages, 
he will execute on the more flagrant offenders in this. Thus, 
whether we consider the nature of these excuses, or the man- 
ner in which God regards them, they are among the most 



MAKING EXCUSES. 379 

fearful harbingers of his wrath. Facts show it. We have 
seen sinners persisting in this expedient of warding off the 
power of divine truth, and the force of their obligations to 
God and to the Saviour. Year after year, we have seen them 
on the verge of eternity, still palliating, in this way, a life of 
past rebellion. "We have seen them, as far as the human eye 
could judge, abandoned to their delusions, believing a lie, till 
death placed his cold hand on the mouth open to utter its last 
excuse, and the soul was summoned to judgment. 

REMAKES. 

1. How infatuating is the power of sin ! 

The power of sin to deceive, is indeed, apparent in almost 
every thing ; but how strikingly it appears, when it persuades 
man that he is under no obligation to his God — when, by its 
carnal sophistry, it persuades the mind that the demands of 
God are unjust. And yet this is the design, and this, in a 
greater or less degree, the effect of every excuse for disobe- 
dience to the divine will. It is true, indeed, that these apolo- 
gies, when first invented, may be suspicious, and even known 
to be false ; they are, indeed, for the most part, adopted from 
a consciousness of sin, of a weak point which needs defense. 
But by a little repetition, they soon become valid, as to all 
practical purposes : on the strength of them, rebellion against 
God is persevered in with a quiet conscience ; the judgment- 
day, if thought of at all, is anticipated with reliance on these 
apologies, as a relief from all its terrors. In this book of God, 
it is written in letters of light, it is declared by the voice of 
eternal truth, that the impenitent transgressor is in a state of 
condemnation and wrath. The gulf of destruction stares them 
in the face, and must soon close upon them forever. And what 
do they hope ? To convict the all-perfect God of error and 
mistake in his demands — to convict him, either through weak- 
ness or design, of injustice — to flatter the ear of Omnipotence, 
and to beguile the scrutiny of the omniscient Spirit ? And 



380 MAKING EXCUSES. 

thus they are venturing onward to eternity ! And this is your 
infatuation, my dear hearers, in every excuse, and apology, 
and pretext, which you invent or offer for your sins ! And, 
if there is such deceitfulness in your heart — if it can thus se- 
duce you into deliberate, settled disobedience to God and con- 
tempt of his Son, have you not cause for trembling ? Is it not 
time to turn your eye inward to your own bosom, and meas- 
ure the effects of such delusion? You have seen how. un- 
worthy, how empty and absurd your excuses are. Will they 
acquire new importance at the throne of God? Will God 
accept of mere insult, as the ground of exemption from his 
righteous curse ? Dismiss, I beseech you, this thought of mad- 
ness, and let your lips never utter another excuse for offending 
God, and rejecting your only Saviour. 

2. How opposite is the spirit of excuses, to the spirit which 
the gospel inculcates. 

The one is the spirit of treachery and impenitence — the 
other, of frank, open confession, and of devout contrition. 
The one a spirit of determined perseverance in sin, the other 
a spirit of prompt, cheerful obedience. The one, prays, "Have 
me excused ;" the other, " Search me, O God !" The one 
owns no sin — the other pours out its confessions in no false or 
scanty measure — " I thank thee that I am not as other men 
are," — " God be merciful to me a sinner." The language of 
one is, " I knew thee that thou wert an hard master," — that of 
the other, "My meat is to do the will of my Father in heaven." 
The one is the spirit of determined rebellion, which the tor- 
ments of hell will never abate — the other, the delighted spirit 
of the heavenly hosts, to be heightened in degree, and made 
more blessed in its effects throughout eternity. By which, 
my brethren, are we actuated ? Do we examine ourselves to 
discover our sins, to detect our guilt in all its enormity ? Or 
do we resort to shifts, and evasions, and subterfuges to conceal 
our guilt from our own view, or that of God ? Are we frank, 
and free, and full in our confessions ; and do we bear this mark 
of a child of God, a ready obedience to do his will ? God will 
10* 15 



MAKING EXCUSES. 381 

not accept of a spirit of duplicity and evasion, but " he that 
confesseth and forsaketh his sins, shall find mercy." 

3. Let all self-excusers reflect how they must appear at the 
judgment of the great day. 

Should they he permitted to offer these excuses at the bar 
of God, how will they look ? You plead your inability to 
love God. Plead it, then, at the judgment-seat of Christ. Go 
there and expose. your ingratitude and enmity, by telling the 
Judge on the throne, the Saviour that died for you, whose 
glories fill heaven with rapture — tell him you were so much 
his enemy, that you could not love him — that you could not 
help trampling his blood underfoot — tell the living God you 
could not help making him a liar, by not believing the record 
of his Son. Plead the incessant occupation of your time — ex- 
hibit then its results — show your bags of gold, your houses, 
your farms, your shops, and tell him these so occupied you, 
that you had no time for the concerns of your soul. Bring 
forward these and other apologies. Will they dazzle the eye 
of Omniscience — will they beguile the Judge of the quick and 
the dead — will these atone for the sin of the soul — will such 
insult and trifling avail with the almighty God, when seated 
on the throne of final judgment ? You know it will not. Why, 
then, cheat your soul in thoughtless security by apologies like 
these ? Why, hastening as you are to your last account, are 
you not now willing to see yourself as God sees you, and as 
you will then appear in your own eyes? Why attempt to 
mock an omniscient God — why cheat your soul into hopeless 
perdition? God knows your excuses are false. Men know it, 
and you know it. You know that you ought to love God and 
believe on his Son. You know that all the apologies you have 
ever framed are false, and that a single glance from God's all- 
seeing eye will dissolve them all. 

Yes, my dear hearers, the season of apologies will soon be 
past. Death will stiffen the smoothest tongue of self-conceit, 
and blot out at a stroke these refuges of lies. The light of 
eternity will present your polluted soul in all its nakedness 



382 MAKING EXCUSES. 

and deformity before the tribunal of God ; nor will an excuse 
be thought of to mitigate your sin. Not your excuses, but 
the great decision, repeated from the throne of the Eternal, 
will stand — "He that believeth not, shall be damned." 



XXVIII. 

HARDENING THE HEART. 

Heb. iii. 7, 8. 
" To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." 

Amid all the demonstrations of the power and goodness of 
God in behalf of the Jews, they had still hardened their hearts 
by their continued and aggravated rebellions. At length, 
wearied and grieved by their provocations, he formed the 
irrevocable purpose, and confirmed it by an oath, that they 
should not enter the land of promise, the type of the heavenly 
country. 

This severe judgment of God, against these ancient Israel- 
ites, was appealed to by the Holy Ghost in the days of David, 
as a solemn warning to unbelievers of his time. The same 
use was made of it by the Apostle Paul ; and it is left on re- 
cord as equally applicable to those of similar character in 
every succeeding age. "To-day if ye will hear his voice, 
harden not your hearts." 

The object of the apostle is evidently to enforce an immedi- 
ate compliance with the demands of the gospel and the voice 
of the Son of God. It is as if he had said, if you ever intend 
to hear and obey the voice of God, no longer harden your 
hearts. No time must be lost. With a hard heart the gospel 
never can be obeyed ; and if you continue still to harden your 
heart, you will have fearful reason to fear that after the ex- 
ample just cited God will swear in his wrath, " Ye shall not 
enter into my rest." 

In considering the exhortation not to harden the heart, our 



384: HARDENING 1 HE HEART. 

attention will be directed to what it is to harden the heart, 
how it is done, and the reason for hardening it no longer. 

I. To harden the heart is to cherish a voluntary insensi- 
bility to God and divine objects. 

Sin consists in electively preferring God to the world. This 
state of mind continued — that is, the mind, the heart with- 
holding its affections from God and fixing them on the world, 
is the act of hardening the heart, the act of perpetuating this 
moral insensibility toward God and things divine. 

The soul of man is as truly capable of deriving those affec- 
tions and emotions from those divine objects which correspond 
with their nature, as is wax of deriving the image from the 
seal. That state of mind in which man voluntarily counter- 
acts and resists this influence of truth, is what the Scriptures 
term hardness of heart. 

Fears of punishment may occupy the soul, conscience may 
awake and inflict its severest pangs, and yet the heart remain 
hard. In the world of woe there is no stupefaction in the 
conscience, and yet hardness of heart reigns without the least 
mitigation. The question, then, is, not whether we have feel- 
ing, but whether we have any such feelings toward God, 
toward Christ, toward sin, as are appropriate to these objects? 
Have we that love to God which is due to that perfect Being? 
Have we that faith without which we cannot please him ? If 
not, then it is strictly true that we have no feeling. The 
heart, in respect to divine and eternal realities, is as cold as 
ice, and as hard as the rock. 

This state of mind is voluntary and criminal. The com- 
mands of God forbid, substantially, nothing but a hard and 
unfeeling heart. The threatenings of God are denounced 
against nothing but a hard, unfeeling heart. Is that, then, 
a matter of irresistible necessity, or is it free, voluntary, and 
criminal action, which a perfect God forbids and punishes 
with eternal death? The same truth is evinced by human 
consciousness. There are some things that do not depend on 
the will. Every one knows that it does not depend on his 



HARDENING THE HEART. 385 

will, when fire is applied to his flesh, whether he shall feel or 
not. But how is it, when the realities of God's revelation are 
presented to the mind ? Every one knows that he electively 
holds his affections to his idol, to the world, and from God. 
He knows that it is a matter of choice with him. He is con- 
scious of a voluntary act or state of the mind, the very object 
and design of which is to prevent all right feeling. He is not 
only conscious of insensibility, a state of wrong affection, but 
he is also conscious, that he cherishes, guards and protects it 
against an invading power that would otherwise, at least, carry 
agitation and alarm to his inmost soul. He retreats from that 
scene of manifestation, where otherwise the influence of such 
realities as a present God, an offered Saviour, and the realities 
of eternity would tell on his spirit; and he knows it. He 
knows, therefore, that his heart is hard, because he chooses it 
should be hard. 

This will more clearly appear, if we inquire, 

II. How the heart is hardened. 

In answer to this inquiry, I remark, 

1. By fixing its affections supremely on the world. 

So long as the heart is supremely set on the world, there 
can be no true sensibility to God and divine things. " JSTo 
man can serve two masters, for he w T ill either hate the one and 
love the other, or cleave to the one and despise the other." 
The same heart cannot have two supreme objects, two Gods at 
the same time. That on which the heart is supremely fixed 
will engross its sensibilities, and when the world is that object 
there is, there can be no sensibility called forth to the glory of 
God, the excellency of Christ, or the joys of heaven. Accord- 
ingly no persons furnish more decisive proof of hardness of 
heart, than they who are actively engrossed in worldly pur- 
suits. Look at the man in whose heart avarice has fixed its 
dominion, and wdio, embarking all his desires in the pursuit, 
and all his hopes in the acquisition of riches, makes an idol of 
his wealth. Or the man of ambition, who for the gaze of this 

world's admiration, makes an idol of fame. Or the man of 
Vol. I.— 17 25 



HARDENING THE HEART. 

pleasure, whose every wish is directed, and every hope bound- 
ed by anticipations of sensual indulgence. You need only 
look at such a person, at one whose heart is thus devoted to 
the world in any form, to see that insensibility to the will and 
glory of God marks his whole deportment. A striking exem- 
plification of this was furnished by that miser whose hand, 
cold in death, still held its firm grasp upon his gold, when his 
spirit had gone to the bar of God. 

2. The heart is hardened by refusing to turn the attention 
to divine things. 

"No truth is plainer than this ; that a man will not feel what 
he does not think of. In reproving the stupidity of his an- 
cient people, God saith, "The ox knoweth his owner, and the 
ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know, my people will 
not consider." The grand and only cause of hardness of heart 
in multitudes is just the same. The things of eternity are not 
thought of intensely enough ; they are not seen distinctly 
enough to produce feeling according to the laws of our mental 
constitution. They are ever kept in the background of con- 
templation. Other objects of contemplation, other objects of 
thought, are suffered constantly to intervene, and thus to move 
and excite all the feelings of the soul. The glimpses which 
such persons may have of the realities on the other side of 
time, are so faint, and so rare, that the real nature of those 
objects is never seen. Their clearest perception only discovers 
dark, obscure, undefined shadows in eternity ; while, for the 
most part, these great realities are thrown off into the region 
of complete forgetfulness. Of course, nothing is felt. The 
consequence cannot be otherwise. The revealed glories of 
God, unthought of, must leave the heart as hard and unmoved 
as it would be were there no God, no Christ, and no heaven. 

3. The heart is hardened by excusing sin. 

The object of every excuse formed by the mind is to impair 
or destroy a sense of obligation and guilt. This object attained, 
the power of every cause of right moral feeling is annihilated. 
For what right moral feeling can that man possess who is dead 



HARDENING THE HEART. 387 

to all sense of obligation to God, and to all sense of guilt in 
rebelling against him ? It is true, indeed, that all sense of 
obligation is not easily eradicated from the human mind. But 
it is an easy and a common thing fatally to impair it by ex- 
cuses and palliations. Whatever be the nature or shape of 
the excuse devised, whether it be derived from the character 
or purposes of God, the character and relations of man, or the 
pressure and necessity of worldly avocations, just so far as an 
excuse serves to prevent a frank and full confession of sin, and 
abates the influence of our obligation to obey God now, so far 
it hardens the heart. The reason is plain. The only cause of 
moral sensibility is wholly resisted, and the heart is opened to 
the full influence of every thing that can benumb and stupefy. 
Excuses for sin and hardness of heart are inseparable. This 
is the most obvious dictate of common sense. Is not that man 
a hard-hearted sinner, who even thinks of an excuse for dis- 
obeying the living God a moment? 

4. The heart is hardened by presumptuous hopes and ex- 
pectations from futurity. 

Nothing is more common than^ such hopes, founded on the 
purpose of future repentance. Nothing has led so many thou- 
sands onward to the brink of eternity, and plunged them un- 
prepared into it, as the delusive hope that God's patience will 
consult their convenience. It is this very dream that now 
holds this guilty world in the deep slumbers of death, while 
the voice of God is sounding in their ears. The effect is un- 
avoidable, and is obvious by every such sinner's own experience. 
He knows that his present quiet in sin is the direct and in 
some sense the exclusive effect of these very hopes. He knows 
that without them he could not resist the terrors of his condi- 
tion, and that he cherishes these hopes for the very purpose of 
suppressing all sensibility to divine things. He knows that 
they answer this very purpose, or he should not resort to them. 
Does he doubt on this point? Would he not then feel, did he 
know that this was his last hour of mercy ? Should the cur- 
tain of eternity now rise directly before him, would he not 



388 HARDENING- THE HEART. 

feel ? Yes, and therefore he refuses to regard life as the vapor 
which it is; therefore he deadens all present sensibility to 
eternal things, from hopes of futurity. The very language of 
such hopes is, the authority and glory of God shall not be felt 
now; the calls of an inviting Saviour, and the excellence of 
his character shall not be felt now; the evil of sin and the 
awful realities of a future world shall not be felt now ; an ex- 
periment shall be made how much provocation God will bear ; 
the interests of the soul are not in jeopardy, and all anxiety 
shall be quieted; all sensibility shall be deadened by hopes 
from futurity. I need not say how fearfully inevitable is the 
effect designed. These hopes of a future repentance, fellow- 
sinner, are a shield to your heart, which the arrows of the 
Almighty will never penetrate. 

Having thus shown what it is to harden the heart, and some 
of the ways in which it is done, I proceed — 

III. To enforce the exhortation no longer to harden the 
heart, by the considerations implied in the text " To-day if 
ye will hear his voice." The declaration implies, 

1. That to harden the heart is a fatal obstacle to hearing 
and obeying the gospel. 

The apostle evidently makes it indispensable to hearing the 
voice of God to any salutary purpose, that the heart be not 
hardened. The very nature of the case shows it. So long as 
the heart remains hard, that voice which speaks to us from 
heaven speaks in vain. How can man obey the command to 
love the Lord his God with all the heart, while that heart re- 
mains stupidly insensible to all the excellence and glory of 
the divine character? How can he intrust his soul, with an 
affectionate confidence and heartfelt joy, to the Lord Jesus 
Christ, while his heart is cold and dead to all the love and 
mercy of his Saviour ? How can he repent of sin while his 
heart is fortified against every humble relenting, and every 
contrite emotion for its odiousness and turpitude ? How can 
he be hastening a preparation for heaven, when the attractive 
glories of that world are repelled by a heart sordidly riveted to 



HARDENING THE HEART. 389 

the atoms of earth ? Obey God with a hard heart ! That God 
whose every demand reaches the heart, and requires its strong- 
est sensibilities, its purest, holiest affections! It cannot be 
supposed for a moment. No matter what fears and anxieties 
may alarm the soul; no matter what convictions of guilt may 
harass the conscience; no matter what service may be ren- 
dered by the feet, the hands or the lips, if the heart continue 
shut to the holy influence of divine realities, there is, there can 
be no obedience to a single divine command. Whatever rea- 
son, then, there is in the commands of the living God — why 
they should now be obeyed — there is all that, why the sinner 
should no longer harden his heart. Whatever there is in the 
beaming glories of the Godhead, whatever there is in the 
claims of a creating God, of an all-providing God, of a re- 
deeming God, whatever there is in the majesty and authority 
of a reigning God, why his voice should be heard and obeyed 
to-day, it all combines to enforce the exhortation, "To-day, 
harden not your hearts. To harden the heart is death to every 
right feeling, to every holy affection. So long as you harden 
your heart, you hear not the voice, you break every command 
of him that speaketh from heaven. 

2. To harden the heart is the only obstacle to an immediate 
compliance with the demands of the gospel. 

It is clearly implied in the text, that if sinners will not 
harden their hearts to-day, they will hear his voice to-day. 
To be perfectly satisfied of this truth, we have only to suppose 
the hardness of the heart to be wholly removed ; that instead 
of a heart whose every sensibility is moved, and whose every 
affection is engrossed by the world, the mind becomes suscepti- 
ble to divine realities, and opens itself to their influence, as 
it would were the sinner standing on the threshold of eternity ? 
Do you say man is depraved, and has in his nature no sensibil- 
ity to divine things ? Depraved ! — without this sensibility he 
could not be depraved at all. The more he has of it, if he does 
not love these objects, the more depraved he is. Let us look 
a little at this. Does not the poet tell us right, when he says, 



390 HARDENING THE HEAKT. 

of the fell spirit that entered paradise, and looked on the moral 
beauty of an unfallen fellow-angel, that "he saw virtue in her 
shape how lovely, and felt how awful goodness is ?" And has 
man no sensibility to the revealed glories of a perfect God ? 
Is not his character clearly revealed to our intellectual appre- 
hension ? And is not the character of man, of a human bene- 
factor, an object of distinct apprehension and vivid emotion? 
And is there not enough in divine objects, revealed as they 
are in the brightness of noon-day, to secure their true and 
proper influence on our aifections ? Is not character in such 
a case an object of our distinct apprehension? And does the 
God who put life into us, who sustains us every moment, and 
multiplies his blessings on us and all his visible creation, fur- 
nish no proof of what he is? Can we rely on this deceitful, 
empty, disappointing world to make us happy ; and yet can we 
see no security, no ground of assurance in the promises of the 
living and unchangeable God to bless us ? Surely the diffi- 
culty is not here. The reality, the nature, and the worth of 
divine things are shown us in the brightness of noon-day. And 
as to the sufficiency of these things, is there not enough to pro- 
duce the effect ? Is there not enough in the worth and majesty 
of the Eternal — is there not enough in that assemblage of all 
that is pure, and holy, and gracious in the Lord Jesus — is 
there not enough in the joys of a blessed eternity on the one 
hand, and the terrors of an undone eternity on the other, to 
awaken every holy affection, and fix every holy purpose in 
such a being as man ? There can be but one answer to the 
question. Do you say you are dependent on the Spirit of 
God? True. But what makes you dependent on the Spirit 
of God ? Nothing but a hard heart. Cease to harden your 
heart. Let go of the world with your heart; turn yom 
thoughts on God, and Christ, and heaven ; give up your mind, 
your heart to the sacred influence that would come upon it, 
and you would no longer need the Holy Spirit to soften your 
heart. Do this, and you would no longer be dependent on the 
Spirit. Do this, and there is nothing in the way of your sal- 



HARDENING- THE HEART. 391 

ration. Do this, and instantly would your heart go forth in 
sweet and holy affection to such a Saviour as Christ. The 
Holy Ghost surely does not prevent such affection in your 
heart by any thing he does, or fails to do. There is nothing 
in God, nothing in man, nor in the universe to prevent imme- 
diate obedience to the divine will, but every thing to secure it 
as an inevitable effect. What weight does this consideration 
give to the exhortation of the apostle ? Nothing, absolutely 
nothing, prevents any man from now obeying the voice of God 
but a cherished obduracy of heart. The only obstacle to an 
immediate submission to the gospel and a participation in all 
its blessings, is a voluntary insensibility to the amazing and 
glorious realities which that gospel discloses. " To-day if ye 
will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." 

3. To abstain from hardening the heart, is as easily done at 
the present as any future time. 

This is clearly implied in the urgency with which the imme- 
diate performance of the duty is pressed in the text. God has 
never, in a single instance, required man to obey him to-mor- 
row. But every call, and every command, and every promise, 
brings duty to man with the urgency of a present business, a 
matter on hand; something now to be done. It comes accom- 
panied with the proclamation, "Behold, now is the accepted 
time, now is the day of salvation." And is it credible that it 
is as well, or even better, to postpone compliance to a future 
day? But this is not all. As a moral agent, man has all the 
powers and faculties of moral agency, all he ever will possess. 
He has every qualification, in this sense, to perform present 
duty, as truly as Gabriel has; and should he be sanctified 
wholly by divine grace, and admitted into heaven, he would 
receive no new faculties ; he will only use these faculties differ- 
ently from what he now does. 

As it respects means, the Bible has poured all its treasures 
at his feet, and not another truth or motive or object will ever 
be presented which that revelation has not unfolded. " What 
more could have been done in my vineyard that I have not 



392 HARDENING THE HEART. 

done in it?" — this is his own vindication, and I repeat it in his 
own words. As it respects the difficulties of performing the 
duty, these will not be diminished. Is it difficult to resist the 
attractions with which the world assails the heart ? The world 
will remain the same tempting world — the same, till it is 
burnt up. And if you wait till the world cease to tempt, you 
must wait forever. Is it more difficult to resist these attrac- 
tions now than in more advanced age ? But the world has 
lost none of its power over the sinner whose locks have whit- 
ened in sinning against God. Is it difficult to overcome habits 
of sin already established? Such habits continued only mul- 
tiply their cords and bind with a firmer grasp. Will it be 
easier to regard the admonitions of conscience by still longer 
stifling its voice ? Will it be easier to fix your thoughts on 
the unseen realities of your future being the longer you refuse 
to think of them; will it be easier to abandon your excuses the 
longer you rely on their validity at the judgment-seat ; will it 
be easier to renounce your quieting, presumptuous hopes and 
expectations from futurity, the longer you thus embolden your- 
self in sin ; will it be easier to submit to the authority of God 
the longer you contemn it ; will it be easier to delight in his 
perfections the longer you loathe and abhor them ; will it be 
easier to intrust your soul to the Lord Jesus Christ the longer 
you despise his salvation and crucify him afresh ? Will these 
things be easier to-morrow than to-day ; at any future time — 
than now ; will they be more easily done when every cause 
which has secured the impenitence and perdition of thousands 
shall have augmented its power on you a hundred-fold? 

4. The last consideration is, that those who now harden 
their heart may never hear and obey the gospel. 

This appears, if we consider, in all such cases, the increase 
of guilt. To harden the heart against the voice of God once, 
is a high measure of provocation ; and if it be the tendency of 
sin, of accumulated guilt, to exhaust the patience of God and 
to provoke his speedy vengeance, what must be the effect of 
hardening the heart with the formal design of continuing to 



HARDENING THE HEART. 393 

rebel against him ? What must be the effect of such a pur- 
pose, with all the accumulation of guilt, in hating God, reject- 
ing his Son, grieving his Spirit, which it brings with it through 
successive months and years ? "When in its own nature it in- 
volves every act of future sin ; when its whole strength — 
strength, too, thus to offend God — is derived from the fact 
that God is good and long-suffering ? What purpose embodies 
baser ingratitude, a more direct insult to God, greater hardi- 
hood in rebellion, and a greater amount of crime ; and what 
purpose could the sinner form to provoke God's instant venge- 
ance if this does not ? 

Again, there is a fearful principle of God's administration 
which arrays all its alarms before such persons. " Ephraim is 
joined to idols, let him alone." " Because I have called and ye 
refused, I have stretched out my hand and no man regarded, I 
also will laugh at your calamity ; I will mock when your fear 
cometh." " If we sin willfully, after we have received the knowl- 
edge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin." 
" Oh," said the compassionate Saviour, " oh that thou hadst 
known, even thou, in this thy day, the things which belong to 
thy peace." God, then, often abandons willful sinners to 
their own chosen way ; and the principle is as applicable to 
sinners now living as to thousands who admit it in everlasting 
burnings. Not one who hardens his heart to-day can prove 
that to-morrow will not be a day too late. In connection with 
these things is to be considered the frailty of health, of reason, 
and of life. How easily, how commonly, how suddenly, are 
our fellow-men overtaken with disease and pain that utterly 
disqualify for the great work of turning to God ? How com- 
mon are those stupors that benumb every faculty — that de- 
lirium that extinguishes reason ? How often does death come 
without a single warning, or at least, without the expectation 
of its approach? How many within our own acquaintance 
has death snatched away, with no thought of their state, till 
they opened their eyes in eternity? 

Further, it is probable that he who resolves to-day to harden 
17* 



394 HARDENING- THE HEART. 

his heart will continue to harden it to the end of life, because, 
on the one hand, there are no reasons for the resolution now 
which will not exist hereafter ; and, on the other, there are 
all the reasons for renouncing it now that ever will exist. 
Habit will give still greater power to every cause which now 
operates to produce the purpose of delay and greatly diminish 
the influence of every counteracting cause. As to the resolu- 
tion to wait for the interposition of divine grace, the tendency 
of such a resolution is fatal. No sinner ever was converted 
while hardening his heart and stupidly waiting for God to 
convert him. The only reasonable expectation is, that the res- 
olution to defer will continue till death, and eternal retribution 
shall break it ; and that he who hardens his heart to-day will 
go down to hell amid the fragments of his broken vows and 
vain expectations. 

I shall conclude the discourse with one remark. The diffi- 
culty of giving your heart to God is not in the time. There 
will never be a better time than the present ; it may be the 
only time ; every cause of the damnation of the sinner is only 
augmenting its power upon you by delay. ]STo ; the difficulty 
is not in the time, it is in the heart. You are still hardening 
your heart, and you will harden it till you feel that you must 
do it no longer. Sooner or later you must feel that now is the 
time when this work must be done. Come, then, anxious 
sinner, come to-day, and see and feel the dying necessity of 
your case. Indulge not a hope from to-morrow. To-morrow, 
the Spirit of God may abandon you; to-morrow, painful dis- 
ease or wild delirium may seize you ; to-morrow may break 
upon you in the torments of hell. It will then be too late. 
To-day, then, as if it were your only day ; to-day, as if to-mor- 
row were known to be a day of darkness and despair ; to-day, 
as if you knew your soul this night would be required ; to- 
day, even now, agonize to give your heart to God, your soul 
to Christ. Throw away every hope from futurity, and fix the 
hour, fix the moment, when, with a holy desperation of 
effort, you will commit your soul to the everlasting arms. 



HARDENING THE HEART. 395 

Do it as you would if you already heard the noise and saw 
the terrors of approaching judgment ; do it as you would, 
were you to have but one more offer of mercy, one hour 
more of probation, but one moment's respite from eternal 
damnation. 

The subject addresses those who remain stupidly insensible 
to their eternal interest. My dear hearers, is my anxiety 
groundless, are my fears without cause, is my conviction with- 
out evidence, when I tell you that it is my honest belief that 
many of you will continue to harden your hearts and neglect 
the great salvation till the day of mercy shall be past? Have 
you not deliberately resolved still to harden your heart and 
still to postpone this great concern? Have not the persuasives, 
the reasons, and the motives, to defer no longer, been urged 
upon you a hundred and a thousand times, and left you with 
the same purpose still ? On this day of God's merciful visit- 
ation you still harden your heart. Even now, all the author- 
ity of God, all the weight of eternal realities, all the love of 
Jesus, and all the danger of your present state, change not 
your purpose to delay or cause it to falter. Thus is your 
guilt accumulating ; thus your provocations are multiplying ; 
thus habit is fixing its iron grasp ; thus, while your life is a 
vapor, you are treading in the very steps of thousands who 
have gone down to hell, and every cause of damnation is aug- 
menting its power over you. And what sinners were ever 
likely to perish, if you are not ? My dear hearers, I tremble for 
you. You may think my anxiety is groundless, and flatter 
yourselves that you shall repent hereafter. That is the very 
reason why I tremble for you ; that is the very purpose which 
I expect will seal your perdition. And it is with such emo- 
tions ; it is with such solicitude as this view of your condition 
is fitted to produce ; it is as if this were the only clay in which 
you can ever secure God's pardoning mercy ; it is as if I knew 
that to-morrow you would stand at the bar of God — if I knew 
you would to-day cast your last look on that setting sun, and 
before it rises again would open your eyes on the scenes of 



396 HARDENING THE HEART. 

eternity ; it is as if I knew that you had only this day's, this 
hour's respite, from eternal damnation, that I say to you, in 
the words which the Holy Ghost teacheth, " To-day if ye will 
hear his voice, harden not your hearts." 



XXIX. 

THE SINNER'S DUTY TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 

Ezekiel xviii. 31. 
"And make you a new heart and a new spirit." 

I have selected this text for the purpose of explaining and 
enforcing the great duty — the sum of all other duties — which 
God requires of sinful men. 

This command of God was addressed to sinners who im- 
peached the rectitude of his dealings by insinuating that he 
punished them unjustly. God solemnly declares the insinua- 
tion to be false, absurd, and impious ; and, by appealing to 
reason and to conscience, shows them that their guilt is their 
own. He then calls on them to repent and cast away their 
transgressions, and to make them a new heart and a new 
spirit. 

The plain and important truth which I shall attempt to 
establish is, that — 

It is the duty of every sinner to make himself a new heart. 

This will appear — 

I. From the nature of a new heart. 

What, then, is a new heart? Some would answer, it is a 
great change in the sinner. And so it is most truly. But the 
question is not merely whether the change is great, but what 
is it ? Some would say, no one can tell but they who have 
experienced it ; it is a something which we can know and un- 
derstand when we experience it, but not till then. But is this 
so ? Cannot the sinner understand God's commands and his 
own duty before he actually obeys God ? Then, to what pur- 
pose is the command given? To what puroose is the duty 



398 THE SINNER'S DUTY 

described or even named ? Why talk about duty which no- 
body can understand ? Is God such a lawgiver and the Bible 
such a book ? God reveal, and man not able to understand ? 
Man a moral being, and yet cannot understand what a wrong 
or wicked heart is, or what a right or holy heart is ? Then a 
bad man cannot understand what it is to become a good man, 
even if he wished to become one, and so is destitute of that 
knowledge which is essential to all obligation — and whether 
man is holy or sinful, the object of God's love or abhorrence, 
none can tell. But some will tell us a new heart is a change 
in the very nature of the mind — in the very structure or con- 
stitution of the soul itself — or, in plainer language, God has 
made the soul wrong and he must make it right. He has 
implanted that in every mind which he only can remove, or 
he must implant something there which he only can implant. 
Well, then, let God, I say, be responsible for his own work. 
If he has made men sinners, it belongs to him to unmake 
them. To talk of a work which God only performs, as my 
duty, is out of the question. If this work be to transform the 
very nature which God has given me, and thus to remake the 
very work of my Maker — whether it be to create a whole soul 
or a part of a soul — then I say I know, and all men know, that 
not even the command of God himself could make me feel my 
obligation to do this. 

But it will be said that the Bible teaches that a new heart 
is a new creation, and that, whether we can explain it or not, 
sinful man must be literally created anew in Christ Jesus. I 
answer : the error is palpable, and consists in one of the gross- 
est of all mistakes, that of supposing the figurative language 
of the Bible to be literal. True it is, the Bible speaks of this 
change in man as a new creation. But it also speaks of it as 
a new birth, and as a resurrection from the dead. All these it 
cannot be. A new creation is not a new birth, nor is it a re- 
surrection from the dead. Indeed, if the change be truly and 
literally any one of these three things, then it cannot be truly 
and literally either of the others. And if you may say, it is a 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 399 

literal creation, another may say, it is a literal new birth ; and 
a third, that it is neither, but a literal resurrection. And what 
shall we make of the Bible by such interpretation ? Plainly 
the language is wholly figurative, since otherwise it must be 
contradictory and false. But the case is too plain to be mis- 
taken. The language of the Bible is the language of common 
usage, and of common life the world over, in all similar in- 
stances. Suppose a man degraded by his vices, idle, profli- 
gate — a victim of sensuality and crime — to become reformed 
— sober, industrious, respectable — how natural to speak of him 
as a new man — a new creature, born again ; and even as raised 
from the dead ! To describe the greatness of the change, these 
forms of speech are to be found in all languages, and in all 
ages, None so appropriate to exhibit that moral transforma- 
tion by which a bad man becomes a good man. A new heart, 
then, is nothing more and nothing less than a holy heart, the 
grand element of a new moral character. It is a heart that 
loves, and fears, and serves God. It is called new, as being 
entirely another and a different heart from that of the sinner. 
The sinful heart is a selfish heart — a heart fixed in its supreme 
affections on the world, and opposed to God. A new heart is 
a heart of benevolence or love. It loves God and the sentient 
universe. The sinful heart rejects the Saviour, a new heart 
believes in him ; a sinful heart loves sin, the new heart hates 
it ; the sinful heart leads its possessor into sinful practices, 
the new heart prompts to a course of holy obedience to the 
will of God. Such is the new heart. And is not every man 
bound to have such a heart as this ? To ask whether the sin- 
ner ought to make himself a new heart, is to ask whether he 
ought to love God, and not to hate him. And no one can be 
at a loss for an answer to the question, for one moment. 

II. From the nature of man. 

Man is an intelligent voluntary being. He is capable of 
knowing his duty, and of performing it. He has understanding ; 
the power of knowing what is right and what is wrong. He has 
the capacity of feeling the motives to right and wrong action. 



400 THE SINNER'S DUTY 

He has a will or heart ; the power of choosing and refusing, or 
of loving and hating. He not only possesses these powers and 
capacities, but he uses them. And the only question is, how 
ought he to use them? Ought he to use them right or wrong? 

The possession of these powers is the foundation of all ac- 
countability. Give them to the stones of the street, and you 
make them moral agents. Take them from angels, and they 
would cease to be under the least moral obligation. Let these 
powers be possessed by any being, and it is impossible to con- 
ceive that he should for a moment be free from obligation to 
love that most which is most worthy of his love. It matters not 
how he uses these powers, whether for good purposes or for 
bad purposes ; the obligation to use them right remains. 

Now sinners possess all these powers. And surely the fact, 
that they have always used them wrong is no reason why they 
are not bound to use them right. The fact that they have always 
loved the world more than God, is no reason why they should 
not love God more than the world. The degree of their aver- 
sion to God is no better reason. For their obligation arises 
not from the maimer in which they use these powers of moral 
agency, but from the possession of them. On this principle 
it is that devils are as truly bound to love God, as seraphs 
before his throne. They have the same high powers ; and the 
only difference is, they use them differently. They once used 
them right, and are bound still, and will be forever, to use 
them right. On the same principle the sinner can no more be 
excused for refusing to love God this moment, than Gabriel 
could be, were he now to raise a rebellion in heaven. Being 
as truly a moral agent, having all the powers that make a 
moral agent, it is as easy, in this respect, to love God, as to 
hate God. Man would have no more power to love God were 
he actually to love him, than he now has. With ample powers 
to love God or to love the world, he is required to love the one, 
and forbidden to love the other. Ought he not to comply? 
Ought not such a being to put away his old heart of enmity, 
and to make himself a new heart of love? 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 401 

III. God commands sinners to make themselves a new heart. 

The text is explicit. "Make you a new heart, and a new 
spirit." The Old Testament abounds in similar commands. 
" Circumcise the foreskin of your heart, and be no more stiff- 
necked;" "Oh, Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wicked- 
ness, that thou mayest be saved." Our Lord directed all his 
precepts to the heart. "Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first 
that which is within ;" " Make the tree good, that the fruit 
may be good also." In this he was followed by his apostles. 
" Cleanse your hands, ye sinners, purify your hearts, ye double- 
minded." The command to repent, so often repeated, and so 
strongly pressed upon this sinful world, is precisely of the same 
import. The very word used by our Lord and his apostles, 
signifies to change the mind — to change the disposition. The 
command is, amend, reform; in other words, make you a new 
heart. 

The same thing is implied in every other command of God 
given to sinners. There is not one which does not require a 
right heart — the exercise of those affections in which a new 
heart consists. Does God require sinners to love him? It is 
with all the heart. Does he require them to believe ? It is 
with the heart. Does he require them to pray ? It is to seek 
him with all the heart. And so of every other command. 
The most distinct utterance that ever fell on mortal ears from 
the throne of God is, " My Son, give me thine heart ;" and 
what good reason has any human being to give for refusing to 
obey the mandate ? I now ask, do these commands — let any 
one say no, if he dare — impose no duty ; or, is the sinner's 
duty to make him a new heart as binding as the authority of 
the living God can make it ? 

IY. The same thing is evident from facts. 

The thing has often been done; and this in two forms. 

Thus Adam was once holy — his heart was right with God. 

Now, in turning from holiness to sin, he changed his own 

heart — he made himself a new heart. And surely, if a man 

can turn from right to wrong — from holiness to sin, he can 

26 



402 THE SINNER'S DUTY 

turn, and ought to turn, from sin to holiness — from wrong to 
right. He who can make, and has made himself a wicked 
heart, can make, and ought to make himself a holy heart. 
Whether the previous state of the heart be right or wrong, he 
himself has made it. And if it be wrong, he is bound to make 
it right. As Adam, then, made his heart wicked in turning 
from holiness to sin, so he was at once bound to turn back to 
the service of his Maker. For the same reason, sinners who 
have made themselves wicked hearts from the first, are bound 
to make themselves new hearts. 

But this is not all. Every Christian has, in fact, through 
grace, made himself a new heart. Let me not be misunder- 
stood on this point. What, then, saith the Scripture ? " Ye 
have purified your souls in obeying the truth, through the 
Spirit;" "Ye have put off" the old man, and put on the new 
man." True, when the sinner does this, he does it through the 
Spirit. Still he does it. He purifies his soul. It is his act. 
It is an act of obedience. He obeys the truth. And what 
does God do, when by his Spirit he brings the sinner thus to 
act? He causes the sinner to love, to repent, to believe — to 
give his heart to God in the exercise of these affections. It is 
not God who repents, believes, and loves, but the sinner. It 
is the sinner — and the sinner exercising his own powers in a 
right manner through the Spirit — and, in the very manner in 
which he can exercise them, and ought to exercise them, with- 
out the Spirit. The Spirit is not given to create any new 
powers, or to create any new obligation or new duty ; but only 
to secure the right exercise of powers, and the performance of 
a duty already existing. If it were not the sinner's duty to 
make himself a new heart without the Spirit, then the Spirit 
could not bring him to perform such a duty, for the plain 
reason that there would be no such duty to be done. God 
cannot cause stones and trees to perform acts of duty. It is 
the most palpable of all absurdities to suppose that God should 
cause a being to perform his duty, who, in his very nature, 
can perform no duty, and owes no duty. While, then, every 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 403 

Christian has, in fact, through the Spirit, made himself a 
new heart, so in doing it, he has simply done what it was his 
duty to do, and what every sinner is bound to do without the 
Spirit. 

Y. If sinners are not bound to make themselves a new 
heart, then the law of God is not binding on men. 

The sum and substance, the very thing which the law of 
God requires of the sinner, is a new heart. "Thou shalt love 
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
with all thy mind." This is man's duty, and his perfection as 
a moral being. No other change in the sinner is desirable. 
God can do nothing better for him than to bring him to 
fulfill this command — nothing better than to bring him to 
love himself, with all his heart, mind, soul, and strength — 
i. e., as much as he is capable of loving him — neither more 
nor less. If, then, the sinner is not bound to make himself a 
new heart, he is not bound to do as well as he can do — he is 
not bound to obey the law of God, and commits no sin in vio- 
lating it ; for there can be no sin in violating a law, when 
there is no obligation to obey it. On the same principle, man 
has never broken the divine law. Or, rather, there is no law 
of God ; for a law which imposes no obligation, is no law. If, 
therefore, the sinner has not always been, and is not now 
under obligation to make himself a new heart, or what is the 
same thing, to love God, he never has sinned at all — he com- 
mits no sin now. Can any believe this ? Has God aban- 
doned his law to accommodate rebellion? Has he given up 
that eternal rule of right which measures man's duties by 
man's powers ? Can any one believe or say, that that law, to 
magnify which God gave his beloved Son to die on the cross, 
is not binding on sinners ? If it is not, the sinner is innocent. 
If it is binding, then every sinner always has been, and is now 
under the highest obligation to obey it — to make himself a 
new heart. 

YI. The same is evident from the nature of the gospel. 

The gospel is a system of grace from beginning to end. Its 



4:04 THE SINNER'S DUTY 

great atonement by blood — the awakening, renewing, and sanc- 
tifying influences of the divine Spirit — is all grace. But, as we 
have seen, if man is not bound to make himself a new heart, he 
is not a sinner. Christ, then, has not died for sinners. He 
did not come to seek and save those who were lost — those who 
deserved eternal death ; but those who were innocent. Christ 
died for those who needed no salvation. The awful scene 
when, at the death of the Son of God, the sun was darkened, and 
the earth to its center shook, was at best a solemn pageantry. 
This must be said, or it must be said that men were sinners, 
and sinners because they had broken a law they were bound 
to obey — because they had not, when they ought to have, a 
heart to love and serve the ever-blessed God. 

Again. If the sinner is not bound to make himself a new 
heart, there is no grace in the influences of the Holy Spirit. 
Grace is favor shown to sinners — to the ill-deserving. If, 
then, man is not bound to make himself a new heart, without 
the aids of the divine Spirit — then he is not to blame, is not 
ill-deserving for not having such a heart, and of course there 
is no grace in giving him such a heart. Were God to with- 
hold the aids of his Spirit, and threaten to punish man for not 
having a new heart — for not repenting, it would be an act of 
injustice. The sinner can say with perfect truth, either God 
must not denounce punishment against me, or he must furnish 
me with the aids of his Spirit, which are requisite to enable 
me to perform my duty. It is a matter of plain equity. If 
God denounce punishment against the sinner, the sinner can 
claim the aid of his Spirit on the score of justice, and God is 
bound to furnish it. And where is grace ? Where is grace 
in a gift which God is bound to bestow — in a gift, which the 
sinner can of right demand? It is plain, that the whole sys- 
tem of grace is annihilated. Every word in the gospel about 
grace should be stricken out. "Grace is no more grace." 
Every reason for gratitude and praise is taken away. Saints 
on earth, and saints in heaven, have no song to raise to him 
who washed them in his blood, and renewed them by his 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 405 

Spirit. He was bound to do it. Convince the Son of God of 
this — persuade them before the throne to shout no more the 
praises of redeeming grace — take the crown from Jesus' head 
— tell the Holy Ghost, that he has done only what he was in 
justice bound to do ; or, admit that you are bound to make 
you a new heart and a new spirit, and that the wrath of God 
is your desert for not doing it. 

YII. Finally, the character of God decides the truth of our 
doctrine. 

Here I present the simple question of reason and of equity. 
Ought the sinner to love the all-perfect God? God, his 
Maker, his Preserver, Benefactor, Saviour — God, the best 
friend he has in the universe — God, whose character is in- 
finite excellence, combining all that is comprehensive in wis- 
dom, vast in power, enrapturing in goodness and mercy — 
claims the sinner's heart — claims it of right — claims it under 
his own promise and oath to give all he can give to bless. In 
opposition is arrayed the world, which deceives, ensnares, cor- 
rupts, and destroys the soul forever. And can reason — can 
conscience hesitate as to the reasonableness and the equity of 
these opposing claims? See what a God Jehovah is! Be- 
hold his glory which is above the heavens ! Look into that 
eternal temple where he unvails those glories ! How angels 
love ! How all heaven loves, exults, and sings as they behold 
him face to face ! Such a God there is, and he claims the 
sinner's heart. Now, produce the objects of your aifection — 
your wealth, your honor, your pleasures — bring forward your 
vanity and vexation of spirit ; and say, whether this, or the 
ever-blessed God, deserves your heart ! Let any Christian — 
let any sinner — let any devil answer. 

EEMAEKS. 

1. They who deny the sinner's power as a moral agent to 
make himself a new heart, deny the scriptural doctrine of 
the divine influence, or the work of the Holy Spirit. 



4:06 THE SINNEB'S DUTY 

"What is the work of the Holy Spirit in changing the sin- 
ner's heart ? It is that influence or operation by which he 
brings the sinner, in the free, unconstrained use of his own 
moral powers, to fix his heart on God. It is not the creation 
of any new mental power or property, but it is an influence 
which secures simply and solely, in a complete moral agent, 
the right use of powers already possessed, and which he has 
hitherto always perverted ; a work which the Holy Ghost can- 
not accomplish in any being except in a complete moral agent ; 
for it is a self-evident absurdity to suppose a being to use 
powers in a right manner which he does not possess. 

Shall we, then, be told that the work of the Spirit is a literal 
creation of some new mental property — some new constitu- 
tional taste, relish, or something nobody can tell what; and 
that it is heresy — damnable heresy — to deny it ? And is it 
so? — The work of the Holy Spirit in regeneration, the literal 
creation of a new soul, either in whole or in part ? You may 
as well say that the work of the Spirit is building the Tower 
of Babel. The work of the Holy Spirit is not such a work. 
Every human soul, ever since the apostasy as well as before, 
is made in God's image, as an apostle teaches. In speaking 
of the tongue, he says, "Therewith bless we God, even the 
Father, and therewith curse we men, which are made after the 
similitude of God." Not, indeed, that man is made holy, but 
made an intelligent, voluntary being, with all the mental pow- 
ers in kind which pertain to God himself. Otherwise, he could 
not be a sinner. In creating souls, God's work is perfect, and 
not to be mended. And to deny this, and to maintain that 
the work of the Spirit consists in making a new soul either in 
whole or in part — to maintain that it is any thing but secur- 
ing the right use of powers already possessed by the sinner — 
that is the heresy. No ; it is moral change. The influence of 
the Spirit is that mysterious influence that moves upon, soft- 
ens, and wins a rebel heart to the love of God — an influence 
under which the sinner, in the free exercise of his own ade- 
quate powers, loves, believes, and obeys God his Saviour 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 407 

— a work of moral transformation — a work compared with 
which the creation of a new soul — aye, the creation of the 
heavens and the earth — shall not be remembered nor come 
into mind. 

2. This subject shows us that ministers are bound to exhort 
sinners to make themselves new hearts, and to do nothing 
which implies that they are not to do this. 

This is the sinner's duty. And if ministers are bound to 
call on sinners to perform their duty and not to come short 
of it, then they must exhort them to make themselves a new 
heart, and not rest satisfied with any thing in which this is 
not included. Thus, if sinners are exhorted to think of God, 
it should be in order to love him. They may be exhorted to 
such reflection, but it should be that they may exercise such 
love. 

It will not be pretended that ministers are to give no exhor- 
tation to sinners, nor that they are to exhort them to wait in 
sloth and inaction, and do nothing. They must then exhort 
them either to seek a new heart, with their present heart of 
enmity and unbelief, or to make themselves a new heart. But 
shall they exhort them to go on in sin; to act from a wicked 
heart in order to become holy ? Can this be done, and the 
gospel be preached ? Does the gospel allow any man to do 
any thing, as the enemy of God, for one moment — or, to do 
that which necessarily implies that he is to continue God's 
enemy while he is doing it ? Does it exhort him to do any 
thing in this character f If not, how shall the minister of the 
gospel do it ? Eather, how shall he exhort them to do what 
the gospel forbids — exhort them to do what they may do, and 
perish when they have done it ? Did Christ preach so ? Did 
his apostles? We have told you how they preached. The 
very substance of their preaching consisted in exhorting and 
urging sinners to immediate duty, to making the heart right 
with God. And shall not the minister of Christ preach as he 
did, and as his apostles did? Does he know how to preach 
better than they? Shall he, on the authority of his own 



40S THE SINNER'S DUTY 

speculations and vain philosophy about regeneration, dare to 
preach otherwise % 

Another thing ought here to be remembered. No sinner 
ever did and no sinner ever will give God his heart, even 
through the Spirit, while he believes either that it is not his 
duty to do it, without the Spirit, or that he must wait for the 
Spirit to influence him in the act. The work of the Spirit con- 
sists in bringing the sinner, as an intelligent moral being, to 
perform his duty, and for the sinner to act under any other 
view of the subject is to resist the Holy Spirit. If he is ever 
regenerated through the Spirit, it will be only when he be- 
lieves that he ought to give God his heart, and that through 
the Spirit he may actually do it, and when attempting to do 
it in the free, voluntary exercise of his own powers. And so 
the minister of Christ should tell him. He must shut him up 
to the act of duty, as the only hope even from the Spirit of 
God. If he does not, he opposes the very work of this divine 
agent, and unites with the sinner in resisting and grieving the 
Holy Ghost. 

3. We see the absurdity of the sinner's plea, that he can- 
not change his own heart. 

If the doctrine of this discourse be true, he has no inability 
which excuses him for a moment — no inability which God re- 
gards as an excuse at all, none but what renders him deserving 
of the wrath of God, so long as his heart is unchanged. What 
is the sinner's inability to change his heart? Is he required 
to create any new powers or faculties ? No. Is he required 
to do any thing which he has not ample powers to perform ? 
No. Is he under any restraint from without ; does any foreign 
influence prevent him or destroy his ability ? No. Is there 
any want of susceptibility to motives, any constitutional in- 
capacity to be moved to right action ? No. What, then, is 
his inability ? I will tell you, my hearers. It is the perverse- 
ness of a wicked heart. He cherishes so strong a love for the 
w r orid and of himself, and so strong an opposition to God and 
his duty, that he will persist in this opposition. Were the op- 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 409 

position of his heart to God less — were it so small in degree 
that he might be actually persuaded by truth and motives to 
renounce it — would he not be to blame for cherishing it? 
And now when his opposition rises so high as to set every in- 
fluence at utter defiance but the power of the Holy Ghost, is 
he no longer to blame ? Has it come to this, that if a man 
commits murder once he is to blame ; but if he commits murder 
ten or twenty times, and thus becomes immutable in his pur- 
pose of death, he is no longer to blame for it ? And is the 
sinner to blame for hating God a little ; but if he hates him so 
much that he will hate immutably and eternally, is he inno- 
cent ?■ Shall he complain that he has no power ? ~No power ? 
Look at his power to love the world, to love sin, and to resist 
all the efforts which infinite love and mercy make in his be- 
half. No power? He has all the power which he would 
have were he perfectly holy — all the power in kind which an 
angel has, to love God. But his enmity rises so high against 
the living God as to defy every thing short of Omnipotence to 
subdue it. This is his so called inability. And is it an ex- 
cuse? What more abominable object in the sight of infinite 
purity than such a giant rebel as this ! 

4. We see why the influences of the Holy Spirit are neces- 
sary to change the hearts of sinners. 

I have heard it said, that it is an act of God which jus- 
tice requires him to perform — that as man lost all power 
to perform his duty by the fall of Adam, the aids of the 
Holy Spirit are given to supply this loss, and to restore to 
man ample powers to obey God. But we have shown that 
man has ample power, even the power of a perfect moral 
agent ; we have shown that it is right in itself, that he 
should make himself a new heart without any divine in- 
fluence ; that he is under obligation as a moral agent to obey 
the law of God perfectly ; that if he is not, he is not a sin- 
ner — that if he is not a sinner, there is no grace in the gospel, 
and that the aid of the Holy Spirit is not grace, but debt. 
This aid, then, cannot be given to make man a moral agent. 
Vol. I.— 18 



4:10 THE SINNER'S DUTY 

He is sucli without it. He is able to do his whole duty, for 
God requires nothing but a given use of powers possessed. 
Nor are the influences of the Spirit given, because it would 
not be right that God should withhold them, and lay his wrath 
on sinners for not changing their own hearts without them. 
But they are given, because God designs to save sinners, and 
because sinners left to themselves will continue in sin, and 
perish ; they are given, because the sinner is willfully blind, 
and deaf, and dead in sin ; because no motives in the universe 
will ever induce the sinner to alter his purpose of rebellion — 
because he will persist in sin, will cherish the obstinacy of his 
heart, will set at naught the voice of God, will trample under- 
foot a Saviour's blood, will go down to hell, if Almighty power 
does not prevent him. 

5. The duty of the sinner to make himself a new heart is 
to be regarded by him as a practicable duty. 

Many suppose otherwise. At least they suppose that every 
attempt at its present performance is nugatory and vain ; and 
that they have only to wait till God interposes, and by his 
grace constrains them to give him their heart. My hearers, 
there is not a more fatal mistake than this ; nor one more ab- 
solutely groundless. Fatal, because so long as you act under 
it, nothing will be done to any purpose in the work of con- 
version. Give God your heart, while you regard every attempt 
to do it as hopeless as the creation of a world ! Never. Under 
this persuasion, it is as certain that you perish, under the wrath 
of God, as that there is a God. If the time never comes in 
which you believe that you may give God your heart, you 
will never try to give him your heart ; and if you never try to 
give him your heart you never will do it, even through his 
grace, but will only resist his Spirit till you die. Cherish this 
persuasion, then, that this duty cannot and will not now be 
done, even if you attempt it, and surely as there is a hell, you 
are the victim of its woes. 

But the persuasion is groundless. Look at the commands 
of God — think of his calls, his entreaties, his expostulations, 



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART. 411 

his promises, his threatenings, his beseeching tenderness, his 
overflowing compassion and grace ! Is not all this designed 
to make the impression, that what God calls upon you to do, 
may he done? Do you say, it never will be done without his 
grace? True. But it may be done through his grace. Yes, 
yes ; oh, yes, fellow-sinner, through the grace of God it may he 
done. It may be done now — now, as well as at any future 
moment of your life. Now, now, now, fellow-sinner, you may 
give your heart to God, and become an heir of his glory. 
What, so soon? Yes, now, even now, through grace it may 
be done. But, you say, I am not even awakened. Be it so. 
Then it is high time you were ; and how long a time w^ould it 
take you to become awakened, if you knew you had but 
another moment to live ? It is time you were awakened. It 
takes no time for a sinner falling into hell, as you know you 
are, to be awakened. If you are not awakened, it is your own 
fault — if you continue unawakened another moment, it will be 
your own fault. But you say, " I have no evidence that the 
Spirit of God is striving with me." But you know that you 
are a sinner against God, and momently exposed to his wrath, 
and is not this enough to awaken you ? Would it not, in fact, 
awaken you, were you not determined not to be awakened? 
And as to the Spirit of God, how do you know that he is not 
now striving with you, in all the tenderness and grief of re- 
sisted love and grace — aye, striving with you for the last time ? 
How do you know that it is not so ; and that the reason that 
you are not awakened is, that you are resisting and grieving 
the Holy Ghost for the last time? Do you not now clearly 
see and understand your duty? Do you not feel the firm 
grasp of obligation on your conscience — every consideration 
of right, and reason, and duty, pressing you to obey the living 
God? And how do you know that this is not the Spirit 
of God striving to bring you to instant repentance, and that 
you are not even now resisting and grieving him for the 
last time ? — resisting, and resisting for the last time, an in- 
fluence that would result in your instant conversion, if you 



412 THE SINNER'S DUTY, ETC. 

were not resisting it ? How do you know that you are not 
thus breaking away from these arms of everlasting love 
for the last time — struggling to escape from the embrace 
of omnipotent love and mercy, that you may plunge into 
hell ? Aye, thus — thus grieving the Holy Ghost for the last 
time! 



XXX. 

PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

Luxe ix. 62. 

"And Jesus said unto him, No man having put his hand to the plow, and looking 
back, is fit for the kingdom of God." 

There are few persons to whom the solemn alternative of 
the gospel is presented, who do not feel the importance of 
deciding the simple yet momentous question, What will I do f 
Its overtures must either be accepted or rejected, and that 
under the pressure of the most weighty obligations, and with 
the prospect of the most tremendous consequences. ]STow it 
is, we believe, impossible that these things should be clearly 
brought before the mind, without producing a state of anxious 
hesitation between opposite determinations, which leads the 
mind to incline first to the one, then toward the other. 

It was to a person in such a state of mind that our Lord ad- 
dressed the declaration in the text. On hearing the call of 
the Saviour, he said : " Lord, I will follow thee ;" but, at the 
same time, proposed first to go and bid them farewell that were 
at home at his father's house. Thus, in the very act as it were 
of forming the resolution, he betrayed its weakness. He dis- 
covered a purpose far below that strength of decision, and that 
unqualified devotedness which the case demanded, and thus 
virtually surrendered the enterprise in which he professed to 
engage. 

By a proverbial mode of speaking, our Lord then most 
pointedly reproves this indecision of purpose in religion. To 
put the hand to 'the plow, is to enter ostensibly upon some 
undertaking, to embark in some pursuit with an apparent pur- 
pose of securing its object; and to look hack, implies that 



414 PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

divided state of mind, and that irresoluteness of purpose which 
are a virtual abandonment of the end proposed, and are, there- 
fore, fatal to success. We are thus taught that a wavering 
and undetermined state of mind in religion is as fatal as it is 
in any other pursuit, that it can never form that character 
which qualifies for the kingdom of God. 

My design is to consider — 

First, Some instances of this indecision of purpose in re- 
ligion; and 

Second, Its utter insufficiency to form the Christian char- 
acter. 

I. Among those who, in the language of the text, put the 
hand to the plow and look back, may be mentioned the fol- 
lowing classes. 

1. Those who would become religious were it not that they 
wish first to secure some worldly good. 

The reality, the excellence, and the necessity of religion, 
such persons readily acknowledge. Often they feel a painful 
internal conflict, a self-dissatisfaction and vexation of mind 
that they cannot obtain some new thought, or feeling, or mo- 
tive, that they have not more sense, more resolution, more any 
thing, which shall secure them from such disgraceful inde- 
cision, and constrain them to a course so obviously rational 
and so vastly important. Every such person, at times, thinks 
that he will begin to make religion his grand object. The 
end is too glorious, the interests at stake too momentous to be 
longer neglected. The feeling seems to be, " Lord, I will fol- 
low thee." But just when the first decisive step toward exe- 
cuting the purpose by a full surrendering of the whole man to 
God, just when the turning-point comes, new thoughts occur. 
Religion is, indeed, a good thing ; it is too important to be 
finally abandoned. But, then, how can all the happy pros- 
pects which the world spreads before its votaries — how can 
all these promising schemes of wealth, or honor, or pleasure 
be abandoned, be sacrificed, by an immediate surrendry of 
the whole heart to Christ? Let these be first secured, and 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 415 

then religion shall have an unreserved attention — an unhesi- 
tating purpose. Thus religion is not ultimately abandoned, 
God's dominion and favor are not finally abjured, Jesus and 
his salvation are not forever renounced; but all their claims 
must be deferred till a portion on earth is first secured. Thus 
the weakness of the resolution is betrayed; the object on which 
the purpose seems to fix as one of unrivaled importance, and of 
indispensable accomplishment, is abandoned. Every such per- 
son has put his hand to the plow, and looked back. 

2. The same thing is true of those who are prevented from 
coming to a decided purpose in religion by certain embarrass- 
ments and difficulties. 

Often under the clear exhibition of its divine excellence, its 
high obligations and supreme importance, they resolve to 
make it the grand concern, and to begin immediately, or at 
least to resolve that nothing shall long detain them from so 
doing. Thus they are often brought to the very point of 
making firm resolve in this highest, noblest enterprise of man. 
But then there are many things to be considered. Is the pres- 
ent the best time ; will not circumstances become more favor- 
able by delay ; will not more leisure, less care and bustle in 
business, or fewer worldly engagements, be found to prevent 
or hinder the effectual accomplishment of the purpose here- 
after? At present friends are not pious, and how difficult to 
separate from them ; perhaps the time may come, and oh that 
it might, when they shall be willing to enter on a religious 
course. What awkwardness and difficulties will be felt in 
effecting the necessary changes in the family, and in other 
departments of social intercourse ! How can the society and 
friendship of such and such persons be forfeited, as it must be, 
by the proposed change in the manner of life ? If friends and 
acquaintances were different from what they are — if others 
around were making religion the grand concern — how easy it 
would be to act more decisively. But as it is, what will 
people say — how many remarks, how many questions, how 
much ridicule and contempt, and alienation ? How singular 



416 PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

it will appear. Thus, if the purpose is not formally renounced, 
there is a secret wish to renounce it. Again, however, the 
conviction of the wisdom and necessity of the case returns 
with greater force — for what are all these things compared 
with the loss of the soul? And now, is it practicable ? — shall 
I become a Christian if I undertake % Perhaps if I form a de- 
termination it will be only to abandon it and to incur the 
shame and obloquy of beginning to build and not being able 
to finish. Thus, in the minds of such persons the embarrass- 
ments and difficulties seem to be peculiar and insurmount- 
able. There are ten thousand insuperable ifs that rise like 
mountains to prevent the salvation of their souls. Thus, the 
strength of their purpose abates and its ardor expires. Soon 
the wisdom, or the necessity, or even the possibility of con- 
version, is made a question, and the purpose is surrendered, if 
not finally, only to be resumed with less hope and relinquished 
with less regret and concern, till it is terminated by death and 
damnation. Every such person puts his hand to the plow and 
looks back. 

3. The same thing is true of those who, in times of deep 
affliction, sudden danger, or alarming sickness, have formed 
resolutions to become religious, and who abandon them on a 
change of circumstances. Such cases have fallen under the 
observation of almost every one, if they have not been matters 
of fact in his own experience. 

Under affliction the sensibilities of the soul are softened, 
the influence of the world to seduce and blind and harden 
is diminished, the need of a more enduring substance is seen, 
and the powers of the world to come are felt. At such 
a season, it is as easy as it is common to form resolutions 
and purposes to renounce the world and sin, and to make 
religion and the concerns of the soul the grand object. The 
countenance, the conversation, the abated ardor of worldly 
pursuits, the suspension of worldly pleasures, all seem to 
say, " Lord, I will follow thee." But scarcely, in many 
cases, is the rod of chastisement withdrawn — scarcely has 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 417 

the wound time to heal, or its first anguish to abate — scarcely 
does health again smile in the family, business assume its 
successful course, and the world invite to its accustomed 
pleasures, before the first rising tide of prosperity rolls back 
with it the same indifference to the soul, and buries it in the 
same sottish devotion to the things of time and sense. 

In seasons of danger, how many have resolved on amend- 
ment, should deliverance be granted. Then no more is ex- 
pected from the world ; then no space for delay remains, the 
world vanishes, and but a moment, perhaps, remains for prep- 
aration for eternity ; or, if life should be preserved, then it is 
seen how frail it is, how near death always is, and how pre- 
sumptuous have been the confident expectations cherished in 
the day of health and apparent security, and how wise, when 
so liable to be met by death at every step, to be always ready. 
Who in the hour of peril has not felt all this, and, under its 
influence, resolved to devote his life if prolonged, to diligent 
preparation for meeting his final Judge? But oh, how frail 
the purpose ! In the moment of danger there are resolutions, 
vows, prayers, tears, solemn protestations, deep relentings, 
promises, every thing to secure a life of future piety. But the 
danger past, how soon is all forgotten ! Plow easy and com- 
mon to tremble amid the terrors of the tempest, and yet when 
it is over, to blaspheme the Creator of the storm ! 

Under the alarms of dangerous disease, when death is seen 

in the mourning countenances of friends, in the desponding 

efforts of physicians, and in every symptom of the disease — 

what tears of sorrow, what self-condemnation, what strong 

resolutions, what fair promises, what solemn vows have been 

witnessed. But when health returns, what then, in most cases, 

becomes of these hopeful plans of salvation ? The condition 

of such persons changed, and how is every thing changed 

with it ; prayer into presumption, and terror into security ! 

All this piety has subsided with their fever, all this devotion 

vanished with their disease, and all these promises, and vows, 

and resolutions have lasted only with their inability to break 
18* 27 



418 PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

them. This man of prayer, this soul of sanctity, what is he ? 
A bolder rebel against God than ever — a faithless, may I not 
say, a hopeless apostate. He also has put his hand to the 
plow, and looked back. 

4. The same charge lies against those who have been the 
subjects of special religious awakening, and who afterward 
return to stupidity in sin. 

Instances of this kind, in places blessed with the revival of 
religion, are commonly not rare. Few can stand by the dis- 
plays of mercy made during such a period, without some 
secret wish that they may be included in the number, or at 
least without occasional fear and trembling that, while others 
are taken, they shall be left. Conscience now pleads with ir- 
resistible power in behalf of religion and the soul, the world 
sinks to something like its true insignificance, eternal realities 
weigh on the spirit. Every thing, to the eye of external ob- 
servation, looks fair and promising. The purpose to make re- 
ligion the grand concern, and that at every sacrifice, and in 
defiance of every obstacle, seems to have taken possession of 
the soul. Means are used with apparent diligence. Christians 
pray, conscience urges, the Spirit of God strives, and in anti- 
cipation we seem to see the humble, happy, devoted disciple 
of the Lord Jesus. But, alas, the change ! He has been, per- 
haps, relying on the efficacy of his impenitent, heartless doings, 
and flattering himself that, though unsuccessful, he has done 
all he can do ; the failure disappoints and discourages, and the 
purpose is abandoned. Or, perhaps, he persuades himself, 
and on the authority, as he thinks, of his own experience, that 
religious awakening is not a difficult attainment, and that he 
can discard his present anxiety, and recall it at a more con- 
venient season. Or, perhaps, reluctant to encounter the shame 
and mortification of making known his religious fears and 
disquietude, he has in fact remained willfully ignorant of the 
instruction and direction which would have issued in his con- 
version. Or, perhaps, wearied with his unsuccessful efforts, 
and with a heart still longing for the world, and yet unable 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 419 

to resist the power of truth on the conscience, he listens to 
false instruction that quiets his alarm, or even becomes the 
victim of some strong delusion, and is left to believe a lie that 
he may be damned. Or, perhaps, he changes his associates — 
one laughs, another frowns, another assures him that all this 
anxiety is useless enthusiasm and gloom, far beneath a man of 
sense, kindly regrets that he should have been thus deluded, 
and persuasively invites and artfully charms his unwary steps 
to scenes of amusement and pleasure, where his feet take hold 
on hell. Every such person has put his hand to the plow, and 
looked back. 

Having thus attempted to trace some of the operations of 
an undecided purpose in religion, I proceed, as I proposed, to 
consider — 

II. Its utter insufficiency to form the Christian character. 

1. An undecided purpose in religion is sure, sooner or later, 
to abandon its object. 

Strength of resolution is requisite for every purpose of 
human life. Show me a man destitute of it, and I will show 
you one who never did well in any thing. A divided purpose 
never secured wealth to the merchant, nor victory to the con- 
queror — least of all, can success be expected to crown such a 
purpose in religion. This path is beset with difficulties, with 
temptations, with dangers, with terrors, and with death; and 
he only can hope to enter upon it with success, who has that 
determined, self-decided spirit which is prepared to act, to 
suffer, or to die as duty may require. The path is so obstructed 
that no other spirit can pass. With any other purpose the man 
yields to whatever may assail him ; and amid the innumerable 
things that will occur to arrest his progress, as he tries to go 
onward, with a heart easily seduced in its affections, and yet, 
in fact, supremely devoted to the world, what chance is there 
that he will not, like the floating leaf, yield to every current, 
, and be whirled on every eddy ? If one is to become a Chris- 
tian only when difficulties, and temptations, and obstacles of 
every kind shall be cleared from his path, when the world, in all 



4:20 PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

its endlessly diversified forms, shall acquiesce and bid him God 
speed, in kind accommodation to his wishes — what is to be 
hoped for? Nothing at all. No. He must set up a firm 
resolve, taking things just as they are. He must look well to 
the emergency, he must count the cost before he lays down 
the resolution ; but when he has resolved, he must be immut- 
able. He must become the master of his own mind, and thus 
rise above the world, and through prosperity and adversity, 
fame or persecution, life or death, go from conquering to con- 
quer. Instead of being governed by events, he must govern 
them, and like the providence of God take a steady direction, 
and make the course of things bend to his purposes, and ter- 
minate in his glory. Do you say such a purpose is from the 
grace of God? Be it so, as it undoubtedly is. But come 
whence it may, you must have it, and you must form it too, 
or you never will have it. Nothing else constitutes disciple- 
ship to the Lord Jesus, nothing short of it qualifies for the 
kingdom of God. Without it, whatever other resolutions you 
may form — if you do not settle it as a question of life and 
death, if you do not resolve on heaven as your object in God's 
appointed way — you will never see it ; the world will tempt, 
and seduce, and ultimately draw you down to perdition. 

2. An undecided, fluctuating purpose in religion greatly im- 
pairs the energies of the mind, and thus defeats its object. 

This principle of the mind is seen in every thing. Who- 
ever knew a man that was always forming and revoking his 
resolutions, I do not say that ever accomplished any thing, but 
who had the requisite mental energy to accomplish any thing? 
The very feelings are expended, and the sensibilities impaired, 
which are necessary to firmness of purpose and vigor of exe- 
cution. These principles not only hold in the concerns of the 
soul, but have here their most alarming application. The 
whole measure of sensibility which pertains to the soul, is here 
required to give energy to the purpose. All its practical sen- 
sibilities are on the side of the world and of sin, heightened 
by habit, and made as it were omnipotent by indulgence. The 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 421 

first feelings of the soul toward religion are always the most 
powerful. Every exhibition of motives which is counteracted, 
renders the same exhibition more and more hopeless as to all 
effect. Familiarity only produces stupidity; resistance, ob- 
duracy. At the same time, all the opposite tendencies of the 
soul are strengthened. Thus every broken resolution gives the 
world new strength of dominion, invites and welcomes tempt- 
ation, impairs all the susceptibilities of the mind toward 
spiritual realities, and binds the soul in the iron chains of 
exhausted energy, deep discouragement, and determined sin. 
Do you doubt it ? Many a gray-headed sinner, who, in youth 
or even in advanced age, formed again and again resolutions 
to begin a holy life, scarcely thinks of such a purpose, but 
abandons the concern in sullen inactivity, as if he had read 
the counsels of heaven, and found his perdition sealed. 

What, then, is to be hoped for from such a process ? What 
to be expected, when the judgment is put in requisition to pro- 
duce excitement which only exhausts and wastes all the ener- 
gies of the inner man, and thus reacts only w T ith augmented 
obduracy in sin ? What is to be expected, when conscience is 
summoned to act, and roused to feel and resolve, only to blunt 
and benumb its sensibilities as if seared with a hot iron? 
Nothing but death. No — when the judgment decides with 
a strong preference toward religion, then must be roused along 
with it all the moral sensibilities of the soul. The intellect, 
or the power to see, must carry with it the conscience and the 
heart — the power to feel. When the judgment is convinced, 
then the conscience must be yielded to the power of obligation 
as to the pressure of great mountains, and the heart applied to 
objects of holy affection as if heaven with its glories beamed 
on the sight. No part of the energy must be lost till the 
purpose is formed. And it must be formed not for an experi- 
ment, to see what results may follow ; but it must be formed 
for eternity, and thus insure its results by the promises of 
God. Without some such intenseness of mind, and decision 
of purpose, there can be no discipleship to Jesus. Thousands, 



422 PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

in a series of unsuccessful resolves, have wasted feeling and 
energy enough to have secured their salvation had it been con- 
centrated on a single purpose. They resolve and re-resolve, 
but, never bidding the world farewell, never going so far away 
from it that they cannot go back, every purpose fails, and the 
end of it is, they go down to hell amid the fragments of broken 
vows and broken resolutions, to bewail their folly in the hor- 
rors of despair. 

3. That an undecided purpose in religion cannot form the 
Christian character, is evident from the fact that it still leaves 
the soul as completely under the dominion of sin as if it had no 
existence. 

It is nothing in any case but a convinced judgment, and a 
troubled conscience struggling with the heart. The former 
summons to the service of God ; the latter refuses submission, 
and still maintains its devotion to the world, and its opposition 
to God. And what fitness is there for the kingdom of God in 
all this — what of the spirit of loyalty to the Eternal in a con- 
vinced judgment and an opposing heart — what qualification 
for the service required of his subjects here, or for the joys to 
be awarded to them hereafter? Was it a mere struggle be- 
tween an enlightened conscience and a rebel heart that led 
prophets, and apostles, and martyrs to resist unto blood, to 
take joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and to rejoice that 
they were counted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ ? 
Is it a mere fluctuation of purpose, which results from a con- 
viction of duty on the one hand, and opposition to it on the 
other, which serves and enjoys God in the heavens? Will 
such a purpose prompt the disembodied spirit to fly on errands 
of mercy from heaven to earth, or to fulfill the holy services 
of that temple, whose song is, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord Gocl 
Almighty?" Could such a spirit associate with beings whose 
love is as a flame of fire ? Could it strike the harps of angels, 
or shout the hosannahs of the redeemed ? And what would 
such a spirit of hesitation do in heaven ? It would still hesi- 
tate, and still revolt, and oppose and hate, and sink and die 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 423 

under a sense of perpetual dissolution and anguish. To qual- 
ify, then, for the kingdom of God, as it exists on earth or in 
heaven, there must be a full purpose of soul. Without it, 
nothing is done — nothing can be done. There is nothing but 
absolute, perfect fitness for heaven, or fitness, absolute, perfect 
fitness for hell. 

4. An undecided purpose in religion grieves the Holy Ghost 
and fearfully exposes to judicial abandonment of God'. 

The very object for which the Holy Spirit strives with the 
sinner, is to bring him to a full and decided purpose of soul in 
the service of God. To form, therefore, these half-way reso- 
lutions, and still to maintain a hesitating purpose, to refuse 
and hold back the surrendry of the whole man to God, is a 
direct resistance and counteraction of the work of the Holy 
Ghost. And how long can this be safely done? How long 
can the Holy Ghost, whose principle of dispensation is not to 
strive always, be safely resisted? How long can the sinner, 
thus constrained by conscience, make resolutions, and through 
the influence of an opposing heart revoke them, and yet ex- 
pect the Spirit of grace to visit that heart with his influence ? 
Who are the sinners whom he abandons but those on whom 
the experiment of his grace has proved thus ineffectual ? Who, 
if not those whom his influence has brought again and again, 
as it were, to the very point of submission, and who have 
there, again and again, with the spirit of unconquerable re- 
bellion, withstood the efforts of his grace? If there be any 
sinner whom God abandons to hardness of heart — if there be 
any who is left to treasure up wrath against the day of wrath 
in hopeless impenitence, and that there is the Bible clearly 
asserts — then of that sinner, who forms and revokes resolutions, 
who resolves to make religion his grand concern to-day, aban- 
dons the purpose to-morrow, who has been often brought to 
feel that he must begin, and will begin, and yet has really 
never begun the work of turning to God — I say, if there be 
any sinner whom God abandons to inevitable perdition, of this 
sinner it may be said, "Thou art the man." 



424: PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 

And now, my dear hearers, in conclusion, let me send the 
question to all of you who are yet out of the kingdom of 
Christ, have you not often put your hand to the plow and 
looked back? Have you not, in some one or more of the 
ways which have now been pointed out, formed and revoked 
purposes of repentance and salvation? Have you not, by the 
power of truth, been brought to a stand, and, as it were, forced 
to resolve to take care of your never-dying soul — and has not 
the world still seduced and drawn you back into former for- 
getfulness and neglect ? And tell me, what has all this avail- 
ed; are you not yet in the gall of bitterness? Does not your 
own experience tell you that every new resolution is weaker 
than the former, and does not reason, does not the Bible tell 
you that continuing in this course there is for you absolutely no 
hope ? Come, then, fellow-sinners, to a full decided purpose. The 
Saviour calls, " Come and follow me ; take up your cross and 
come after me." Deny thyself, give up the world as an object 
of supreme affection, and with a purpose that will lift you out 
of this materialism around you, and place you high above every 
temptation and every obstacle the world can interpose, with 
a purpose that shall hold out through time and through eter- 
nity, now resolve to be the Lord's. 

Do you say it will do no good to resolve ; that it is better 
not to resolve than to break resolutions, and therefore you will 
make no resolution? Then you are undone. Never to re- 
solve is death. Never resolve, and all the mercy of the 
Saviour and love of God are in vain, and as sure as there 
is a hell you are the victim of tribulation and wrath and 
anguish without end. Do you, then, say you will resolve ? 
When ? Do you say to-day — even now ? But how will you 
resolve ? "Will you resolve to abandon some vice, resolve to 
become more thoughtful, resolve to enter the service of 
Christ with your heart glued to the world? Better not resolve 
at all. Will you resolve to consider, and read, and pray, and 
thus to wait and see if God will not convert you ? Still you 
have not come to the point. All this you may do and still 



PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW. 425 

determine to withhold your heart, and thus grieve the Holy- 
Ghost in your very prayers. Your resolution, if this be all, 
will come to naught in this world but confirmation in sin, and 
perdition in hell in the next. Do you now ask what you shall 
do? Kesolve on an interest in Christ and devotion to his 
service at every sacrifice ; come to the point of giving up the 
world once for all ; come to the resolution that, whether saved 
or damned, the world shall be no longer the object of your 
affection. Turn your back upon it and bid it farewell forever. 
Your soul and all its eternal interests are at stake, and some- 
thing must be done, and done soon. Now is the time, the 
best time, perhaps the only time, to provide for those interests. 
Now, then, begin ; begin with a purpose which neither earth 
nor hell can shake or cause you to abandon. Resolve, and re- 
solve for eternity, to be the Lord's. See to it that your decis- 
ion is final and unchangeable. If the first attempt fail repeat 
it. Repeat it now — repeat it in your closet. Eepeat it again 
and again. Go where you shall be alone with God, and there 
repeat it. Here is the pivot on which your eternal destiny 
turns. If you make no resolution you are damned ; if you 
form none but undecided, wavering purposes, you are damned. 
Form, then, the resolution that shall endure throughout your 
immortality — that this shall be ever the great concern — that, 
saved or lost, you will ever be the Lord's. 



XXXI. 

APOSTASY. 

John vi. 67, 68. 

" Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away ? Then Simon Peter 
answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life." 

None of us wonder that vast multitudes attended the min- 
istry of the Lord Jesus. Such was the sanctity of his charac- 
ter, so heavenly and powerful was his preaching, and so amaz- 
ing were his miracles, that the natural curiosity of the human 
mind, would lead great numbers to follow him. But we have 
wondered — as often as our thoughts have recurred to the fact 
— that while thousands and ten thousands followed him from 
place to place, heard him preach, and witnessed the displays 
of his omnipotence, few, very few became his real disciples. 

The multitude had just witnessed the miracle of our Lord in 
feeding the live thousand. "With high expectations from a 
leader who could do such things for his followers, they crossed 
the sea to Capernaum, and came after him to make him their 
king. Here, he took occasion to deal plainly with this multi- 
tude, charging upon them their selfish purposes, correcting 
their mistaken expectation of finding in him a temporal prince, 
unfolding the great purpose for which he came into the world 
as an atoning sacrifice, and declaring unto them that they be- 
lieved not. At this they took offense, and vented their emo- 
tions in murmurings and complaints against the doctrines 
which he taught. From that time, many even of his professed 
disciples went back, and walked no more with him. It was 
with this melancholy instance of apostasy, that " Jesus said 



APOSTASY. 427 

unto the twelve, Will ye also go away ? Then Simon Peter 
answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words 
of eternal life." 

I propose to consider — 

First, Our Lord's question ; and 

Second, The disciple's answer. 

1. This question of our Lord, was the language of affection. 

It was designed and exactly adapted to lead those whom he 
addressed to reflect on the happiness promised to his faithful 
disciples, and the misery of those who had just forsaken him. 
The former were his friends, his brethren, those whom he had 
loved with an everlasting love, and for whom he had come to 
die on the cross. Our unbelief, our wayward affections and 
fond attachments to our own selfish indulgence, often lead us 
to distrust the kindness of this our best friend, and give even 
to the injunctions and warnings of his kindness, which the 
benevolence of a God dictated, the aspect of severity and un- 
necessary rigor. Like froward children, we count nothing 
kind in a benignant parent which crosses our inclinations or 
defeats our wishes. How false is such an estimate, how un- 
grateful such a thought ! When or in what did the Lord 
Jesus show any other emotion, toward his disciples, than that 
of love? Whether he intercedes with the Father of all mer- 
cies in their behalf, or faithfully utters divine denunciations 
against apostasy by unfolding its woes — whether he enjoins 
the strict, and pure, and holy precepts of his gospel on the 
authority of him that sent him, or invites and entreats by the 
blessings of his grace — whether he counsels or admonishes, 
warns or reproves, the same affection glows in his heart. See 
it in the tears he shed at the tomb of Lazarus. Hear it as it 
blends the accents of compassion with the severest denuncia- 
tions of justice. " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest 
the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how 
often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a 
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! 
Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." An exclama- 



428 APOSTASY. 

tion uttered with more tenderness than human bosom ever felt. 
Behold it in that look of energy and love which he cast on 
Peter, and which melted him into repentance. Behold it 
taking away the scruples of the unbelieving Thomas, by per- 
mitting him to thrust his hands into his wounded side. Hear 
it in the fervor of that prayer, even for his murderers, poured 
out in the agonies of death. Nor can we doubt, though he is 
invisible to us, that still, we have a high Priest who is touched 
with a feeling of our infirmities, and whether he invites or threat- 
ens, intercedes or commands, blesses or rebukes, that he does 
it with a heart as warm, as gracious, as endearing as when he 
allowed the beloved disciple to lean on his bosom. He loved 
us enough to lay aside his glories in the heavens, and die for 
us on the cross. When we were yet enemies, he reconciled 
us to God — he sought our restoration with a love stronger than 
death — he could not bear to leave us in hopeless alienation 
from God ; and when he has restored us, brought us back, and 
made us partakers of the full purchase of his atoning sacrifice, 
how can he consent that we should forsake him, and go away 
into eternal exile from God, from mercy, and from hope ? It 
is with such emotions he says to us, as to the twelve, "Will ye 
also go away?" 

2. The question of our Lord implies a solemn warning. 

He had just been forsaken by thousands of professed follow- 
ers ; and with such a fact before the twelve, the question from 
their Lord, whether they would also forsake him, could not 
fail to come to their minds as a solemn admonition against 
similar apostasy. 

The propriety or fitness of such admonitions and warnings 
which are so frequently addressed to the professed disciples of 
Christ, rests on two grounds : the possibility, so far as they 
Jcnow, that they are not real disciples; and t/ie possibility that, 
if real disciples, they may apostatize. The former consider- 
ation our Lord powerfully presented to the minds of the 
twelve. Immediately on hearing the answer of the confident 
Peter, as in the text, and with the addition, " We believe, and 



APOSTASY. 429 

are sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God," 
Jesus answered them, a Have not I chosen you twelve, and one 
of you is a devil ?" How must the declaration have thrilled 
in every bosom, and with the deepest solicitude for his own 
personal safety, have constrained each to make the inquiry, 
"Lord, is it I?" 

Nor is there any reason to doubt that, in any similar num- 
ber of professed Christians in our age, there is at least one 
hypocrite. ISTo human eye may be able to distinguish him — 
his real character may be, and probably for the most part ac- 
tually is, unknown to himself. Still he is a hypocrite, and, 
sooner or later, his open apostasy will probably proclaim the 
fact to his own conviction, and that of the world. At least 
the judgment-day will reveal it. The Scriptures constantly 
exhibit this truth. The church is represented as including 
both good and bad men, and w r ith such a resemblance that no 
human discrimination can separate them. The institution of 
discipline in the church, shows that there will be a necessity, 
in certain cases, for an open separation between the true and 
the false followers of Jesus ; and not only during the ministry 
of Christ, but in the churches planted by apostolic labors, and 
in those of every successive age, there have been constant de- 
fections calling for the application of gospel discipline — defec- 
tions enough to settle the point, that visible members of the 
ehurch may go to hell as well as other men. There is also 
often a measure of false confidence connected with a profes- 
sion of religion, which the most solemn admonitions and warn- 
ing cannot disturb. A delusive hope produces a stillness in 
the conscience, removes misgiving fears, creates a reluctance 
to self-examination, and a deliberate purpose not to have their 
good opinion of themselves shaken. It is in this way that, 
with confident expectation, "Many will say, Lord, Lord, open 
unto us ;" to whom he will answer, " Depart from me, ye work- 
ers of iniquity, I never knew you." It is, then, on the ground 
of this mistake, into which any one may fall, that the pro- 
priety of warnings against apostasy are addressed to all the 



430 APOSTASY. 

professed followers of Christ ; that the mistake, if it exist, 
may be discovered, before it is too late ; that we may fear, 
before we are past all hope ; that we may see — if we have 
built on the sand — the weakness of our foundation, before the 
storm and the ruins shall declare it. Oh, the surprise and the 
horrors of such a mistake, first discovered at the foot of the 
judgment-seat ! " Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for 
many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be 
able." And when the Lord Jesus puts the question, through 
his written record to us, " Will ye also go away ?" let us re- 
member that all our past confidence may be but the hope of 
the hypocrite, and that our open apostasy here, may yet be a 
prelude to our eternal condemnation hereafter. 

But it is not merely on the ground that professed Christians 
may mistake their real character and apostatize, that we are 
cautioned against apostasy. Real Christians may apostatize. 
As moral agents they have the same power to sin which they 
had before they were Christians. They have power to sin and 
to continue to sin, till their breath stops and perdition over- 
takes them. What they will do, or what they will not do, is 
a question not to be taken into the account at all. The only 
question is, can they apostatize ? — and the answer is, they can ; 
they can go away from Christ and walk no more with him. 
The consequence is, they are in danger of apostasy ; and what 
better reason can be given for warning them against it ? 
What other reason was ever thought of by a parent or a 
friend in warning others against danger, but the possibility of 
its proving fatal ? Nor is this inconsistent with the certainty 
of the saints' perseverance. For it may be certain that a man 
will not do many things which, nevertheless, he has power to 
do. It may be certain that you will sit still when you have 
power to walk. Even the greatest danger is consistent with 
the certainty of escaping it. Were not Paul and his company 
in danger in the storm and the shipwreck, and yet had not the 
prediction of God proved the certainty that they would not be 
lost? And so in any case of danger from which there has 



APOSTASY. 431 

been an escape. Did not God know that it would be escaped % 
Does not this fact prove that the escape was certain ? But 
does it prove that there was no danger? Have those who 
have escaped from the winds and the waves and the tempest 
been in no danger because they have escaped, and because the 
Omniscient knew they would escape? No more does the cer- 
tainty that saints will not be lost, prove that they are in no 
danger of being lost; and that, therefore, the warnings of God 
against apostasy are impertinent and useless. Christ said unto 
the twelve, " Will ye also go away?" because they were in 
danger of apostatizing, and because, without being warned 
against it, they doubtless would have apostatized. And he 
puts the same interrogatory to us for the same reason. True 
it is, the fact that the Christian can apostatize is no reason 
for the conclusion that he will apostatize ; neither does the 
fact that he will not apostatize, authorize the belief that he 
cannot, and that he is in no danger of apostasy. He is ; and 
on this account we should open all the sensibilities of the soul 
to the warnings of God against it. " He that endureth to the 
end shall be saved." " But if any man draw back, my soul 
shall have no pleasure in him," should tell on the Christian's 
spirit in watchfulness, and prayer, and labor and diligence, 
till he enters heaven. 

3. The question of our Lord is the language of anxious con- 
cern in view of abundant reasons for it. 

Many professed disciples had already forsaken him ; one of 
the twelve was a devil, and would, as he knew, afterward 
betray him ; all of them whom he addressed were the subjects 
of much weakness and prejudice ; they were to be exposed to 
many temptations, enemies, and dangers, and they were igno- 
rant, to a great extent, of the real nature of salvation through his 
atoning sacrifice. He might justly regard their situation as 
furnishing cause for deep anxiety and concern in their behalf. 
It was to make this impression on their minds that their Lord 
said unto them, " Will ye also go away ?" 

Similar reasons exist for anxious concern respecting the pro- 



432 APOSTASY. 

fessed followers of Christ at the present day, and it may be 
useful to consider some of the sources of their danger. 

One principal source of danger and reason for anxious con- 
cern, is the deep depravity of the human heart. Its endless 
operations and its powerful influence we can attempt to de- 
scribe only in a few particulars. How easily does this de- 
pravity lead men to deny or disregard the great practical 
truths of the gospel ! How revolting to the natural heart is 
that system of truth which humbles man as a guilty, con- 
demned sinner — which calls him to self-renunciation, to self- 
denial, to communion with God, to fix his heart on the glories 
of heaven ! How many have made shipwreck of this faith ! 
And yet this truth is the light by which God is seen, by 
which Christ is seen, by which man's obligations, duties, con- 
ditions, and dangers are seen ; and he who is not willing to 
stand in the midst of it and let in its full blaze upon his con- 
science and his heart will stumble on in darkness to eternal 
ruin. 

How easy is it, through the same influence, to lose all just 
impression of the broad distinction between Christians and the 
world ! There is a broad distinction between the one class and 
the other, like the difference in the eternal destiny which 
awaits them. But how easy to form a low and vacillating 
judgment of this distinction, and to lose sight of the funda- 
mental difference between spiritual life and spiritual death, 
till a heedless conformity to the world begins and progresses, 
till the professed follower of Christ partakes, in character and 
hopes, with a world lying in wickedness ! 

How easy also to disregard the comparative worth of tem- 
poral and eternal things ! Convinced as we are of the low and 
fading nature of earthly objects, compared with the realities 
to which the stupendous mercy of God invites us, how' easily 
do we lose all practical sense of it, and with it our solicitude 
to escape the contagion around us ! Instead of pursuing with 
eager step the prize of our high calling, and rising above the 
temporary scene around us by the discovery and attraction of 



APOSTASY. 433 

heavenly things, how easily we give our affections to the 
world and sink in the love and pursuit of its vanities ! Thus, 
multitudes are drawn away from Christ. 

How easily, too, do we become insensible to the dangers of 
small departures from duty, and go over the line of safety — 
descend the downward way till we come to the place of trem- 
bling and dismay! How easily do we lose a just estimate of 
the necessity of continual effort in the divine life, and this when 
the exertion of the candidate in the race, the wrestler in the 
struggle, and the warrior in the combat, is our only safety in 
the contest in which we are engaged ! 

How easily we fail to keep death and eternity in view, and 
that when the love of this world is never overcome but by 
bringing near the pure and unfading glories of another ! 

How common to become more solicitous to preserve appear- 
ances before men than the reality before God ; to become 
solicitous to palliate and justify questionable courses of con- 
duct; to become irritable under reproof; to find more time 
for amusements, dress, company, indulgence, than for active 
co-operation in plans that aim at the promotion of the glory 
of God ! 

How easy to neglect the means of grace, and that when we 
know that the grace of God is the Christian's only strength, 
and that if the enemy of our souls can keep us from the ap- 
pointed means of obtaining that grace, he will strip us of our 
armor and make us an easy prey ! 

If we thus reflect on the power of indwelling corruption to 
beguile, to ensnare, and to stupefy the soul — if we remember 
what weak, fallen beings we are, how quickly we are occupied 
by sensible objects, how feeble our principles of resistance, 
how irresolute of purpose, how continually losing sight of our 
duties, our obligations, our privileges, our dangers, and the 
great end of our being — what reason is there for deep solici- 
tude lest we incur the guilt and the doom of apostasy from the 
Saviour ! 

Another principal source of danger is the power of the' 
Vol. I.— 19 28 



434 APOSTASY. 

temptations without us. The world comprises these. *Ihe 
people of the world are enemies to religion. How pernicious 
their maxims, their example, their influence ! How seductive 
their smile, how intimidating their frowns ! How powerful 
the fear of censure and the love of applause ! How sure the 
influence of familiarity and friendship of worldly men, to chill 
and freeze the Christian's heart ! 

Every station, every condition, has innumerable temptations. 
Wealth flatters our pride; feeds the passions; draws off our de- 
pendence from God ; furnishes substitutes for the consolations 
of religion ; multiplies diversions ; excuses obstacles. Poverty, 
too, has its perils ; it tempts to envy, to repining — to many 
overt crimes. The world has the advantage of constant con- 
tact ; we cannot avoid its influence ; it presents itself to the 
eye, to the ear, to every sensibility ; it is within us and about 
us, and on our right hand and on our left. It does not ask us 
to deny ourselves, but to indulge. It has every diversity of 
means adapted to every variety of taste and disposition. If 
we are not grovelling enough to be tempted by money, it has 
its honors to give. If we despise sensual gratification we may 
pursue knowledge that puffeth up. If one temptation be re- 
sisted another or another may prevail. In how many forms 
can it assail us — how many aspects assume to deceive, en- 
snare, and ruin us ! How many like Demas ; how many like 
Felix ; how many like Herod ; how many like the young ruler ; 
how many like Hymen seus and Philetus ; how many like those 
who received seed among thorns, have been seduced, and 
ruined eternally by the varied forms of temptation which the 
world presents ! "What inward peace it has destroyed ; how 
it has benumbed the spirituality of the soul, obstructed com- 
munion with God, and planted the dying pillow with thorns ! 
Oh, what spoils of truth, of conscience, and of duty, can the 
world display — what trophies of ruined immortals can the 
world boast! The current flows strong and deep on every 
side of us, and who shall not be concerned for his safety! 
Who can reflect on the multitudes that have been lost, con- 



APOSTASY. 435 

sider the progress of their decline and the gloom and terrors 
of their end; who can survey the wrecks that everywhere 
float around us — look at the rocks and shoals and tempests 
that infest the path to the haven of our hopes, and not see 
cause for alarm and even for consternation? Shall we won- 
der that the compassionate Jesus, with deep solicitude and 
concern, says to all his professed followers, " Will ye also go 
away ?" 

I proceed to consider briefly — 

II. The disciples' answer to this question : " And Simon 
Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast 
the words of eternal life." The question bespeaks a just sense 
of his wants as a sinner, and of his dependence on Christ as a 
Saviour. 

As sinners we need the forgiveness of God, and can obtain 
the blessings only through Christ. We have broken the laws 
of God and are exposed to its awful curse. The law knows no 
mercy for the transgressor. It has nothing to give but its 
fearful curse. " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all 
things which are written in the book of the law to do them." 
The whole world is guilty before God. There is rebellion 
against heaven's law and heaven's Sovereign, and the soul that 
sinneth it shall die. The eternal God hath said it. There is 
but one way of escape. " There is none other name under 
heaven given among men whereby we must be saved." 
Neither men nor angels can save. Creation can furnish no 
deliverer. If we set aside as naught the atoning blood of 
Jesus, hell must be our portion. Out of this hiding-place, all 
that is just and holy and immutable, stands in threatening 
array against every son and daughter of our species. The 
living God looks upon us only in the aspect of a stern, in- 
sulted, unappeased sovereign, and throughout the universe 
the attributes of God will bear in terror on the soul. To 
whom, then, shall we go? Who — if we forsake the only 
Saviour — who shall deliver us from death and hell ? 

As sinners we need sanctification, guidance, support, and 



436 APOSTASY. 

consolation, which none but Christ can give. Think, for a 
moment, of the corruption of the human heart, and think 
what that heaven is for which we must be prepared. How 
must the soul be purified and raised to be meet for that world 
of glory? The perfect image of God must be given it. "Holy, 
holy, holy, Lord God Almighty," is the anthem of each in- 
habitant of that place. But how can we share in such de- 
lights with all our affections fixed on the vanities of earth, and 
our whole character formed by their influence! As surely as 
these bodies must be changed to avoid pain amid the fires of 
the pit, so surely must these souls be transformed, before they 
could find aught but disgust and weariness amid the halle- 
luiahs of heaven. But who shall effect the mighty trans- 
formation ? "Who, if we forsake the Lord Jesus, and thus for- 
feit the grace and power of the Holy Ghost — who, then, 
shall give to the soul its purity and its capacity for the rap- 
tures of that world of holiness and glory ? In our exile from 
him, and from the blessings purchased by his death — and 
which can flow to us only through the channels of a Sav- 
iour's love — to whom shall we go ? Oh, how forlorn — how 
wretched ! 

Who shall guide, and support, and console us in this pil- 
grimage of tears ? We live in a world accursed, and the 
clouds rest dark and deep on the face of it. Oh, how must 
the mind sink under its calamities without support ! How can 
we meet poverty, the loss of health and friends, and the count- 
less ills of life, with no Saviour to sympathize with us under our 
infirmities, no God to befriend us, no heaven to hope for ! To 
whom shall we go? Have we known what it is to have the 
friendship of God in our trials — what it is with quietness and 
assurance to commit all our interests to his keeping — what it 
is to understand that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, to 
enter into his plans, to incorporate our interests with his pleas- 
ure, and to say, as the source of firm support and of richest 
consolation, "Thy will be done?" And, oh, if we forsake the 
strength ol that arm, and the light of that countenance, and 



APOSTASY. 437 

slmt ourselves out from such fellowship with God our Saviour, 
to whom shall we go ? 

And when we come to lie on the bed of sickness, and know 
it to be a sickness unto death — when we witness the despair 
of friends, who can only turn pale at the sight of our expiring 
agonies — when the resistless summons to meet God in judg- 
ment shall come — what, then, shall charm away from us the 
terrors of anticipated vengeance? Did you ever see the dying 
man who could prop his hope and sustain his tranquillity on 
a death-bed, by the retrospect of his own virtues ? Did you 
at that hour ever see an undaunted eye fixed on God as a law- 
giver about to render to the soul according to its deserts? 
Oh, no ; this is not the support of death-beds ! This is not 
the triumph of the departing spirit ! It is the hope of for- 
giveness through the great atonement of the Son of God, it is 
an entire reliance on the righteousness of Jesus, and this only 
which gives peace, and elevation, and joy to the soul in the 
severest agonies. It is this which can fix a steady eye on the 
great white throne, and the God who sits thereon — it is this, 
and only this, which lights up the languor of the dying eye 
with celestial brilliancy, and wakes the shout of salvation on 
the brink of eternity. And, oh, if we go away from Christ — 
if we refuse a dependence on him who alone can present this 
immortal spirit holy, unblamable, and unreprovable in the 
sight of God — on whom shall we depend, to whom shall we 
go? 

"We need eternal life. Christ has the words of eternal life ; 
not only as his word is the means of that spiritual life which 
prepares the soul for future blessedness — not only as he only 
has brought life and immortality to light — but as this eternal 
life is in him. God hath given us eternal life, and this life is 
in his Son. Nor can we be at a loss what this life is. It is 
that perfection of spiritual life which we attain in the heavens 
— it is the blessedness of that world's employments, of the wor- 
ship of God, of fellowship with him, of activity as co-workers 
with him, of union and intercourse with the happy throng be- 



438 APOSTASY. 

fore his throne — it is the blessedness of being with Christ, 
whose presence brightens and cheers the mansions of the re- 
deemed, and gives to heaven its highest extasies, and wakes 
its most rapturous songs — it is eternal life. Its elements in 
the soul, its affections, principles, capacities, partake of its own 
immortality. Its objects, the sources that feed, and nourish, 
and animate its vigor, and impart its joys, are eternal, for 
these are God and Jesus, and all the fountains of joy which 
spring from the throne of God and the Lamb. And to enter 
the world of spirits, and not be heirs of this life — where are 
we ? What the character, what the condition of an immortal 
in that spiritual state, whom nothing in God, nothing in 
Christ, nothing in heaven can bless ! Yea, what the charac- 
ter, and what the state of that immortal, who can find nothing 
in God but cause of terror and of hate, nothing in the song 
to the Lamb but disgust and weariness, nothing in the society 
of angels and glorified spirits but cause for enmity and loath- 
ing ! How forlorn, and solitary, and wretched an outcast is 
such an immortal ! Whither shall he go ? Earth and its 
works are burnt up. In heaven, with all its fullness of joy 
and rivers of pleasure, there is not a drop for him. In hell, 
there is only lamentation, and woe, and chains, and darkness, 
and fire, and tribulation, and wrath, and anguish forever. De- 
part from Christ? " 'Tis death — 'tis more — 'tis endless ruin, 
deep despair." 

Have not some of you, who have professed to be fol- 
lowers of Christ, forsaken the Saviour? Be not reluctant 
to hear the question, nor to apply it. Carry the search 
through all the chambers of the heart, look over the de- 
portment of your life, and say honestly, as in the presence of 
God, are there not some sad and decisive marks of apostasy 
from your Saviour upon you? Have not the truths of God, 
which are the food of the divine life in the soul, lost their in- 
fluence by unbelief, by indifference, by denial ? Has not the 
broad distinction of character between Christians and men of 
the world faded, and dwindled, and become almost nothing? 



APOSTASY. 439 

Has not the comparative value of temporal and eternal things 
become faint and unreal ? Is not death placed at a distance ? 
Are not the means of grace neglected? Has not temptation 
prevailed? Is not an habitual dependence on your Saviour 
lost? Are these things so, and yet have you not forsaken 
Christ ? These things so, and you not an apostate ? Bring, 
then, the inquiry home, and answer it ? If the Saviour felt 
such tender concern for the twelve — if, with such tender solic- 
itude, he warned them against apostasy, the same anxiety and 
the same admonitions may be justified in your case. If of 
the twelve one was a traitor, it would be no cause for surprise 
if some one of you should be already an open apostate, or a 
real apostate at least. Let the question, then, go round, "Zord, 
is it I?" Think of the tremendous nature of this concern. 
It is nothing less than the everlasting salvation of your soul ; 
and dare you trust your state without trying it ? Think of the 
deceitfulness of your heart. How often has it deceived you ! 
And, oh, why may it not deceive you to your eternal undoing ! 
Think how many live and die in the delusion and security of 
false hopes. Why may not you thus dream away your proba- 
tion, till the last sentence of the Judge shall wake you from 
the dream in the horrors of condemnation ! Put yourself, 
then, to faithful self-examination. Be willing to know the 
worst of your case. Ask, whether the first symptoms of apos- 
tasy do not already appear. Ask your Bibles and your closets 
— search faithfully your hearts in the light of God's unerring 
truth ! See if the plague is not begun, and if the very vitals 
of your religion are not infected ! " And, remember, if your 
hearts condemn you, God is greater than your heart, and 
knoweth all things." But, beloved, we hope better things of 
you. For how can it be — how can it be, that ye who so lately 
tasted the wormwood and the gall — who so lately trembled 
before the terrors of God — should forget the hole of the pit 
whence ye are digged ? How can it be that ye who so lately 
tasted a Saviour's love — and with your feet on the rock of 
ages, had the song of salvation put in your mouth — should 



MO APOSTASY. 

have forgotten your deliverer from hell? And, my dear 
friends, will you — can you ever forget him ? Will you — can 
you go away from Christ ? Oh, spare the Saviour the w T ounds 
you w r ould give him ! Has he forsaken you — will he forsake 
you, if you forsake not him ? 



XXXII. 

THE HARVEST PAST. 

Jeremiah viii. 20. 
" The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." 

This is the language of the Jews under the impending judg- 
ments of God. Abundant means of securing the divine pro- 
tection and favor had been offered them. Faithful prophets 
had warned them of their danger, and urged them to make 
God their refuge. Instead of trusting in the Almighty — in- 
stead of " breaking off their sins by righteousness," they ob- 
stinately rejected the appointed means of security, and per- 
sisted in disobedience and rebellion till the season of deliver- 
ance was past, and the threatened destruction was ready to 
burst upon their heads. "With this prospect of speedy and 
inevitable ruin before them, they are convinced of their past 
folly and madness in having wasted the season when the divine 
favor might have been secured, and lament, in the anguish of 
despair, that " the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and 
we are not saved." 

There is scarcely a more painful reflection to the mind of 
man, than that the season of avoiding great calamities, and of 
securing great blessings, has been neglected, and is irrecover- 
ably gone. The distress will be heightened in proportion to 
the magnitude of the evil which might have been avoided, 
and of the blessings which might have been secured. Ac- 
commodating the language of the text to the interests of the 
soul, and to the season in which deliverance from endless woe, 

and its future glory and blessedness may be secured, how ex- 
19* 



442 THE EARTEST PAST. 

cruciating to be forced by the reality to say, " The harvest is 
past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." A season in 
which salvation might have been obtained has been granted — 
means wisely adapted to the end have been abundantly pos- 
sessed, but these only opportunities have passed unimproved ; 
means are no longer granted, or if granted, are useless — the 
last moment of mercy is come, is gone, and deliverance from 
hell is hopeless for eternity. It is in relation to this subject 
that I propose to apply the mournful reflection in the text. 

I propose to consider — 

First, Some of those periods at which the day of grace ends, 
and leaves no hope of salvation to the sinner. 

I. Yiewing man as an accountable being, it is strictly true 
that the whole of life is the season of probation and of mercy. 

It is true that pardon and salvation are offered to his ac- 
ceptance till death, and that as a moral agent he may accept, 
and that, if he will accept, he shall be saved. But viewing 
man as dependent on the grace of God, as a being who, by 
perverseness of heart, has rendered his salvation hopeless, ex- 
cept through the power of that grace which transforms the 
heart and brings to repentance, there are several periods dur- 
ing his continuance on earth which truly limit his day of 
merciful visitation — periods at which his future repentance 
and salvation become hopeless, and when, with exact truth it 
may be said, "The harvest is past, and the summer is ended."" 

1. The season of youth passed in impenitence, is to multi- 
tudes such a season. 

Youth is emphatically the season when the character of man 
is formed for eternity — the season in which those who do not 
embrace religion are almost sure never to embrace it. Re- 
ligion to the depraved heart of man is never an easy acquisi- 
tion. But the difficulties which attend it increase with age. 
In youth we are exempt from a thousand obstacles that beset 
the path in future life. Schemes of business, the cares of life, 
the countless perplexities and pursuits of manhood which oc- 
cupy and engross, and fatally hinder thousands, are now un- 



THE HARVEST PAST. 443 

known. The thoughts are not, by habit, confined to one 
channel ; not fastened to worldly objects, so that they cannot 
be diverted to religion. The sensibilities of the soul are more 
easily touched, conscience is more susceptible and faithful, the 
affections are more easily moved, the soul is capable of receiv- 
ing more permanent impressions — the whole inner man is 
peculiarly accessible to the influence of eternal things. Every 
one who, in early life, has been blessed with the faithful in- 
structions of a Christian parent can testify to all this by ex- 
perience. With what interest and emotion did he then listen 
to the great truths of his salvation, which he can now hear 
with an almost absolute insensibility. The testimony furnished 
by the providence of God conducts to the same conclusion. 
Inquire after the age of those who become hopefully pious. 
Who are they? Young people almost without exception. 
Look over the list of those who have been the subjects of the 
revival in this place or in other places. Comparatively few 
can be found above thirty, still fewer above forty; and above 
fifty, it is believed, not one in a hundred. You may make 
your estimate on this subject as you will, and you w T ill come 
to substantially the same result. The conversion of an aged 
sinner is an event that justly strikes the mind with astonish- 
ment. The providence of God is a complete comment on the 
awful interrogatory of his word, " Can the Ethiopian change 
his skin, or the leopard his spots ?" Thus, wdiether you con- 
sult the providence of God, or reflect on the nature of the 
subject, youth is the season peculiarly favorable to the com- 
mencement of a religious course. All that there is in the 
character and circumstances of man to awaken hope is to be 
found in this period of life. All that follow r s is cause for fear 
and anxiety, and in the case of multitudes, as God sees it, for 
utter despair. They waste the season so favorable for making 
provision for eternity. Its precious hours are spent in sloth, 
in accumulating difficulties and obstacles, in resisting and de- 
feating the efficacy of those means which divine mercy fur- 
nishes. God abandons them — the winter of age, with all its 



4AA THE HARVEST PAST. 

frost, and cold, and death, comes on — their " harvest is past, 
their summer is ended, and they are not saved." 

2. The same precious season is often terminated by some 
single acts of wickedness, or by yielding in some single in- 
stance to temptation. 

That there are those who have given up themselves, and 
who are given up of God, to perpetual sin and final impeni- 
tence, cannot be doubted by a careful observer of man, nor by 
the believer in the declarations of holy writ. To this dark 
and fearful course there was some first step. Behold an 
abandoned, hardened murderer; you are shocked at his daring 
profligacy, his avowed defiance of God and man, and relin- 
quish the monster of criminality as beyond the reach of mercy. 
Could we unvail his history, we should see that some one act, 
by its connection with consecutive acts, became the turning- 
point of future character, the first step of that career which 
terminates on the scaffold, his day of mercy. Take the con- 
firmed drunkard ; his hopeless, downward way began in some 
place of gay festivity — some hour of thoughtless mirth. Take 
the man who scoffs at the Saviour and his atoning blood, and 
is given up to "strong delusion, to believe a lie that he may 
be damned ;" his way to death began, perhaps, in some single 
purpose to excite a laugh in impious companions, at that re- 
ligion which he thus fatally abjured. Another, whose life is 
marked by no open immorality, has indulged a spirit of hos- 
tility toward some of the humbling doctrines of the gospel 
which he heard from some faithful preacher — he resolves to 
hear that gospel no more; and never will, till he hears its final 
curse pronounced upon him. Another, causelessly absented 
himself from the house of God, or some other place of religious 
instruction, when, had he listened to the suggestions of con- 
science, he might have heard the sermon which had been to 
him the power of God unto salvation. Another, has yielded 
to the influence of an irreligious friend, who has enticed or 
threatened him, and for the sake of his friendship has resolved 
to forego the friendship of his God, and permitted his soul to 



THE HARVEST PAST. 445 

be murdered by the very hands which should have saved it. 
Another, intimidated by reproach or ridicule, has checked, 
and concealed, and stifled the monitions of truth and of con- 
science ;.and because he is ashamed to think of that which is of 
highest esteem with angels, and Christ, and God himself, of 
him the Son of man will be ashamed when he comes to judg- 
ment. Another, to banish the thoughts of religion, to dispel 
the gloom and the forebodings of conscious guilt at an hour 
when had he resorted to retirement, and consented to be alone 
with God, his soul might have received his image, resorts 
to vain conversation, to diversion, which in other circum- 
stances had been harmless, to a party of pleasure, to the gay 
assembly-room, to something which diverts the thoughts and 
feelings of the mind, and thus grieves away the Spirit of all 
grace, and seals his final ruin. Thus eventful are many of the 
acts of man. They become the infallible occasions of future 
continuance in sin. What memorable examples are furnished 
by the young ruler going away sorrowful from the Saviour, 
because " he had great possessions,*' and could not part with 
them ; by Felix saying to Paul, " Go thy way for this time, 
when I have a convenient season I will call for thee." Could 
we draw aside the vail that conceals the providence of God, 
we should doubtless see, in the history of every soul that is 
lost, some act, some purpose, some state of heart, some vio- 
lence done to conscience, which was the fatal step away from 
the grace of God — the commencement of that downward ca- 
reer, in which mercy was never to reach him — the turning- 
point of life and death eternal — the hour in which his day of 
grace terminated, and from which the only result of his pro- 
tracted life, was the accumulation of wrath — the hour when 
the harvest was past, when the summer ended. 

3. The same precious season is often terminated by the 
abuse and perversion of distinguishing grace. 

There is no law of nature of more infallible operation than 
that the gospel, when it does not soften, hardens the heart 
— when it does not save, damns the soul. It is a " savor of 



446 THE HARVEST PAST. 

life unto life, or of death unto death ;" and, in exact propor- 
tion to the abundance and power of the means resisted, are 
guilt and hardness of heart augmented. Thus it is that the 
sinner's measure of iniquity is often rapidly filled up and his 
perdition made certain, long before death overtakes him. 
" Woe unto thee, Chorazin ! woe unto thee, Bethsaida ! for if 
the mighty works which were done in you, had been done in 
Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sack- 
cloth and ashes." Thus he wept over Jerusalem: "If thou 
hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things 
which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from 
thine eyes." 

On this principle of providential dispensation many a youth 
who has persisted in a wayward course of sin, amid the coun- 
sels, the expostulations, and entreaties of parental piety, has 
early reached that profligacy and hardihood in sin, which 
evinces the utter inefficacy of all the means of grace and sal- 
vation. 

Others, and those of every age, who have sat under the 
plain, pungent preaching of the gospel, and who have thus, in 
order to continue in sin, been obliged to resist the clearest 
dictates of their understanding, to maintain a constant conflict 
with conscience from Sabbath to Sabbath, and who have per- 
haps resisted a degree of moral influence which has resulted 
in the conversion of many around them, often reach the point 
of hopeless obduracy of heart and fatal abandonment of God. 

Every faithful minister of the gospel is thus the occasion of 
perdition to multitudes. It is credibly related that in a place 
where Mr. Whitefield preached, and was greatly opposed by 
many, that not one of his opposers was known afterward to 
give evidence of piety, and that nothing like a revival of re- 
ligion was known there, until every such opposer was dead. 
When, in addition to the more ordinary means of grace, oppor- 
tunities of hearing the gospel preached, are multiplied — when 
religion and the concerns of the soul become extensively the 
topics of conversation in families and among neighbors — when 



THE HARVEST PAST. 447 

the professed followers of Christ awake to a faithful discharge 
of these duties and converse with sinners, solemnly and pun- 
gently, about the neglected concerns of the soul — and when 
these extra opportunities and means are resolutely shunned 
and neglected, or when, in any way, their influence is resisted, 
then it is that multitudes put themselves beyond the influence 
of the most powerful means that will ever be used for their 
salvation, and live only to " treasure up wrath against the day 
of wrath." 

I might dwell on many other particulars under this head. 
Every event of Providence in the natural world, from the 
opening of the flower of the field to the sweep of a tornado — 
every event in the moral world, from the admonition of a 
friend to the heavens opened above us in showers of grace and 
salvation, is an effort to save the soul of man. The hand of 
Providence, is the hand of God. The voice of truth, is the 
voice of God. The whole system of events, is a system of ex- 
periment on the heart of the sinner to bring him to God and 
life again. But when the experiment has been fully made, 
and made in vain, then does God himself take up the lamenta- 
tion over him: "O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee? 
O Judah, what shall I do unto thee?" u Ephraim is joined to 
his idols, let him alone." The God of grace despairs, and well 
may it be said, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended." 

4. This season of mercy often terminates with a season of 
peculiar divine influence. 

There are periods in the life of almost every one when the 
truths of religion have peculiar efficacy. The Spirit of God 
carries those truths to the conscience with a power which can- 
not be wholly resisted. Such intervals of conviction may be 
longer or shorter, the conviction itself may be more or less 
pungent, but let the subject resist and grieve away the Spirit 
of God, and the last state of that man is worse than the first. 
God, when he thus awakens the sinner, does the most that God 
can do to bring him to repentance, short of actual regenera- 
tion ; and no act of the sinner so jeopardizes his salvation as to 



44:8 THE HARVEST PAST. 

stifle such convictions and grieve the Holy Ghost. The sinner 
struggles away from this grasp of omnipotent mercy, and God 
puts into execution that awful denunciation, " My Spirit shall 
not always strive with man." It is, however, there is reason 
to believe, peculiarly true that such judgments are executed 
on sinners after seasons of the outpouring of the Spirit on the 
community where they dwell. At no other period of their 
probation are such diversified and powerful efforts made by 
the Spirit of grace for their salvation. Then it is not only that 
the ordinary means of grace are greatly multiplied, but then 
also many are used which are peculiar to such seasons, and all 
have a peculiar efficacy. Then it is that a peculiar divine 
unction attends the preaching of the word of life — the atten- 
tion is fixed, and the solemn assembly is moved by the Spirit 
of God as the trees by a mighty w T ind. Then it is that the 
fervor of effectual prayer takes hold of the counsels of God 
and draws down the blessings of his grace. The false glare of 
earthly objects fades, the realities of eternity come near and 
rise on the mind with their real magnitude. Then it is that 
every sensibility of the soul is touched, and obligation puts its 
firm grasp on the conscience. Then in the mother, the child, 
the wife, natural affection draws with all its tenderness, sym- 
pathy awakens and softens and melts to kindlier emotions, 
the voice of friendship and entreaty wins, the beauty and ex- 
cellence of religion attracts, hope animates, fear alarms. Then 
it is that the scenes of apostolic days pass before us again, the 
tears of contrition and the joys and songs of hope, the love 
of brethren and their sweet communion, in gladness and 
singleness of heart are witnessed. The prince of life, in actual 
conflict with the grand adversary, multiplies his victories. The 
majestic goings of a sovereign God are seen and confessed, as 
in the execution of new purposes of grace and mercy, angels 
exult, and the powers of the world to come, rest with deep and 
awful pressure on every mind. Varied as the effects are, none 
are indifferent ; and oh, I have seen it here — that silent, soli- 
tary, engrossing agony which each will feel amid the surround 



THE HARVEST PAST. 449 

ing millions of the last day. The scoffer and the blasphemei 
are compelled to new efforts of resistance ; the skeptic beholds, 
despises, and wonders ; the grave and prudent wait with 
affected composure, but with real solicitude, to see whether 
the work be of God or of man; the speculatist summons his 
pride of intellect and reasons away the Holy Ghost ; the pro- 
crastinator in religion half relinquishes, but scarcely retains 
his purpose of delay ; the worldling immerses himself in new 
cares and hurry and bustle ; the men of pleasure multiply 
their feasts and amusements; youth seek for laughter and 
mirth where it is not ; and thus all, in varied ways of counter- 
action and resistance, evince the presence of the Holy Ghost 
no less really than the sinner who, pricked in the heart, bows 
at the feet of mercy. 

What is the result of such a season of divine visitation? 
As many as are ordained to eternal life believe, while other 
multitudes, as the reward of their voluntary obduracy and im- 
penitence, are left to seal their own damnation. At such a 
season, God seems to make his last, highest efforts to save ; 
and those unhappy men who resist them, and still persevere 
in impenitence, of all others run the most fearful risk of final 
abandonment of that God who has done so much to save them. 
It is of such that God says, "Ephraim is joined to idols, let 
him alone." Make the appeal to facts. Of those who had 
arrived ^t manhood during the outpouring of the Spirit in this 
town, in the years 1807 and 1808, how many have since, in the 
two successive revivals, been brought into the church, or dare 
hope that they are Christians? So few, as to make the heart 
of every one " meditate terror," who has witnessed and out- 
lived in sin a revival of religion. 

Let every such person reflect on the principles of God's dis- 
pensations ; let him reflect what peculiar influences from God 
he perverted, what a scene of divine wonders he has witnessed 
unmoved ; let him think of the frailty of his life, the little 
probability that these efforts of grace will be repeated, the still 

less probability of their efficacy, if they should be; let him 

29 



450 THE HARVEST PAST. 

ask, if God is ever to interpose by his grace in Lis behalf, why 
he has not done it already ; let him remember that he per- 
sisted in his impenitence with his eyes open on the awful 
hazard of doing it, and with the warnings of God sonnding 
in his ears ; let him remember, for he may know the fact, that 
he has attained to a hardness of heart that can resist all that 
the God of mercy ever does for the conversion of men, and 
then let him say, if there is not in his case one of the most 
decisive proofs, short of death itself, that his harvest is past, 
his summer ended, and he not saved ! 

5. Death ends the day of grace to all. 

Often wild delirium, or a benumbing stupor, or the violence 
of disease terminates these precious hours of mercy before the 
spirit departs. It is far the most frequent effect of fatal dis- 
ease, either in the ways just specified, or by giving only doubt- 
ful indications of its fatal termination, or through the false 
hopes excited by the desire to live, or by the deception of 
friends, that it wholly incapacitates for the work of repentance. 
Did yon ever see a dying sinner? Consider his weakness, 
and his pain, and say what power has his poor departing spirit 
to work ont his salvation. Thus, instead of a faithful monitor 
to ronse the soul to the great work of preparation for eternity, 
it becomes only a decisive index that the day of mercy is over. 
But death itself is to all the close of probation. It ushers the 
sonl that is unprepared into the presence of its Judge to re- 
ceive its unchangeable doom. "It is appointed unto men once 
to die, and after that the judgment." The end of probation 
must come. The mighty angel standing on the earth and the 
sea shall lift his hand to heaven, and swear that time shall be 
no longer. Then all will be eternal, unchangeable retribution. 
The day is near when these Sabbaths will no more rise upon 
us with this heavenly light, when these doors of the sanctuary 
will no more be opened to us; when no sermon will be heard, 
no prayers offered ; when God will invite no more, the Holy 
Ghost strive no more ; when these accents of mercy will no 
longer follow the listening ear; when cries, and tears, and 



THE nARVEST PAST. 451 

groans will no longer avail, and when the unforgiven sinner, 
either under the certain anticipation, or actual reality of cease- 
less and unmitigated wrath, shall be forced to say, the clay of 
merciful visitation is past. 

And now, my dear hearers, has not this subject, in some or 
all of its parts, a direct and solemn application to many of 
you? Are there not some from whom the precious season 
of youth has passed away, or is just passing, who, instead 
of availing yourselves of this season of promise, have only 
spent it in resisting the instructions, and warnings, and prayers, 
and entreaties of Christian friends ? Instead of improving the 
advantages of this period of life, have you not wasted them 
all, and surrounded yourselves with all the disadvantages, and 
hindrances, and hopelessness of more advanced age? Are 
there not some of you who have reason to tremble, lest you 
have taken that first and fearful step in the downward way to 
ruin, which you will never retrace? — been guilty of that single 
act, which w T as the fatal harbinger of those successive steps 
which take hold on hell? Inquire whether you have not done 
some deed of open and decisive contempt of God, of direct 
objurgation of his Son, of despite unto the Spirit of grace, 
which marks you as one who is to die, not only without mercy, 
but under the sorer punishment of a despised gospel. 

Have you not all been favored by distinguishing means of 
grace? I venture to say, there is not a spot on the globe more 
signally blessed in this respect, and of course not one where 
those who neglect and abuse the means furnished, more rapidly 
ripen for perdition. And yet are there not many who, before 
God, are chargeable with such neglect and abuse ; many who 
have not only disregarded the calls of the gospel, a thousand 
and a thousand times repeated, but many too, who, with a deter- 
mined hardihood in sin, have stood entirely aside, and most 
studiously shunned all the peculiar and abundant means of a 
season of divine visitation? And have not that number just 
cause to fear that all the means which may be used in their be- 
half will be equally vain? I go further. Is there one among 



4:52 THE HARVEST PAST. 

us who, during the season of this outpouring of the Spirit, has 
not felt the sacred influence ? I do not ask in what effects that 
influence may have appeared ; whether in more decided hos- 
tility to the gospel, toward Christians and religion generally, 
or in deep conviction of sin, and a thorough conversion to God. 
But is there any one who has not had thoughts and feelings 
peculiar to such a season ? Have not peculiar fears and anxie- 
ties at times disturbed you ? Has not conscience administered 
louder and sharper reproofs ? Has it not cost you a measure 
of resistance, in order to avoid religious seriousness, which at 
times is not necessary ? And have not the artifices of the devil 
to blind and stupefy the heart, and to enable you to resist 
the Holy Ghost, been peculiarly welcome ? And have you 
not made use of them to a decree that is both strange and 
shocking S 

Have not some of you who are now quiet in sin, at times, 
trembled at the thought that God should pass you by — have 
not others, now equally stupid, been actually constrained to 
secret prayer, and to ask what you must do to be saved ? In a 
word, are there any who have not felt the solicitude, the awe, 
and the agitation of witnessing the power and the grace of a 
present God ; and yet are not many forgetting, or have they 
not already forgotten it all? These are questions, my dear 
hearers, which each one can answer for himself. And, oh, could 
we take off all concealment from the divine counsels, and see 
what God sees, what lamentation, and despair, and horror 
would possess even now many a soul, at the prospect of his 
remediless abandonment of God ! It is true that we cannot 
specify these unhappy victims of folly and of sin ; but can we 
doubt that there are such? Can we think what God has done 
on this theater of his mercy, and what they have done, what 
they are now doing, and then reflect on the revealed methods 
of divine providence, and not believe that on many the grand 
experiment of eternal mercy has been made, and that the only 
result is hopeless impenitence and hopeless perdition ? And 
were an angel to go from seat to seat, and disclose what the 



THE HARVEST PAST. 453 

eye of Omniscience sees, what bursts of horror might be heard 
in the cry, " The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we 
are not saved! 1 ' 

But the time is not remote when what is now unknown, shall 
be made known. Let me assure the man who can now bid 
the stoutest defiance to the message of the gospel, whose heart 
rears an insurmountable barrier to the grace of God, and who 
rejects every truth of this discourse upon the plea of fanaticism, 
or of strange peculiarity, or severe and gloomy views of the 
gospel, that the time may come, even in this world, when he 
will do homage to the truth he now despises. Such a one 
may despise it while in the vigor of health, amid the activity 
and occupation of life, and while he feels his mountain to 
stand strong on the foundation of earthly good. But will he 
despise it on the bed of death ? Is he sure that, with the same 
firmness of nerve, he can think of it when death comes to look 
at him in earnest? Will he be able to cast an undaunted eye 
back upon his probation, even upon this auspicious hour of it, 
wasted in rejecting the great salvation, and forward on the 
coming judgment of a righteous God? Oh, who can tell the 
anguish of such a one, when on the bed of sickness — a sick- 
ness which he knows to be unto death ! And when finding 
within him a heart that has despised a Saviour's mercy so long, 
that it rejects it still — a heart so hard and so stubborn, that it 
yields not, but remains as stubborn and unmoved by a Saviour's 
glories as ever, even when the terrors of death and the grave 
have taken hold of him ! Oh, who can tell the anguish of such 
a one when, under all the weight of breathlessness and pain, 
and on the brink of eternity, he is forced to cry, " The harvest 
is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved !" Such 
horror, such anguish has been witnessed. I have seen a fel- 
low-man die thus., and heard this exclamation from his lips. 
I heard him say, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, 
and I am not saved." He said it, and died. And, fellow- 
sinner, you may die thus. And that which shall give peculiar 
poignancy to your anguish, may be the remembrance of these 



454 THE HARVEST PAST. 

bright hours of mercy. If ay feel it? — yon will feel it, should 
you die in sin; if not at the hour of death, at the judgment- 
seat, and through the ages of eternity. On the day of the 
second death it will be found, that not the imaginations of 
man, but the sentence of God will stand. 

When the sound of the last trumpet shall be heard, calling 
the dead from their graves — when, amid a burning world, dis- 
solving elements, and rolling heavens, the Judge shall be seen, 
then it will he felt that what God hath said, God will do. On 
that day each will mourn apart ; and, oh ! what must be his 
lamentation, when in the unchanging decision from that 
throne, and in the certain, dark, and woeful prospect of a 
ruined eternity, he learns that his probation is over forever. 

Then, to think of the thousand solicitations of his God to 
accept of pardon and glory eternal — the glowing entreaties of 
a crucified Saviour's love; then to think of this place where 
so many accepted these overtures of grace, of the thousand 
sermons, and prayers, and Sabbaths — this gate of heaven, which 
so many entered — of the friends and companions that entreated 
and urged acceptance of the great salvation — of the compas- 
sion and long-suffering of God, that waited and wooed and 
threatened and almost forced acceptance — of the riches of that 
grace that pardoned and sanctified and fitted others for eter- 
nal bliss — and then to look up to that bright world and see 
them there — to see them high in those realms of bliss — the full 
inheritance of the Redeemer's purchase, the trophies of a 
Saviour's love — their raptures, and crowns, and fullness of joy, 
and to say, once it might have been mine — once it was freely 
offered to my acceptance — but, oh! I slighted it all when 
placed within my reach. Oh ! that day of mercy and of 
hope ! — could I call back but one hour of it to ask for mercy ! 
But no ; God has closed the ear of his compassion, so long 
abused. Jesus has no sacrifice for sin to proffer ; the entreat- 
ies of his love are heard no more ; the grand catastrophe of my 
immortal being has come ; and now these chains, this dark- 
ness, these fires forever and ever ! Oh, my dear hearers, can 



THE HARVEST PAST. 455 

you bear such a hell as this ? Can you bear even this thought, 
that there was an hour when heaven might have been yours, 
and hell was chosen ? The present may be such an hour. It 
has all the value now, which it would have in your estimation 
were you rolling in the lake of fire. Improve it, then. Per- 
adventure it is a last hour of mercy. Awake now, or soon 
you may awake in the horrors of despairing guilt, to say, 
"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not 
saved." 

But venture on the way of determined sin, and what can 
you expect ? In that path stands death, with which you have 
made no covenant. On that path an angry God pours only 
the darkness and tempest and fire of his indignation. Aye, at 
the next step in it, a reprobating God may say, " He is joined 
to his idols ; let him alone." Let him alone, ye ambassadors 
of God's salvation. Let him alone, ye angels of mercy. Pray- 
ers, entreaties, calls of Christian love and friendship, let him 
alone. Thou, only Saviour of the guilty and the lost, let him 
alone. 'Tis done. Heaven is lost. Hell is his certain doom. 
"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and he is not 
saved." 



END OF VOLUME I 



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